


The Breaking Point

by m_____j



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Dream Smp, Flirting, Internal Conflict, Language, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Panic Attacks, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Swearing, dream has anger issues but it's fine, dream team, dream's cat dies (speckles), everyone is dense but Sapnap duh, l'manberg, speckles/patches, what are tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_____j/pseuds/m_____j
Summary: Despite his faceless online persona of charm and an outgoing nature, Dream finds that behind the screen he is not as put-together as he makes himself out to be. When a bad day turns into a live broadcast of a breakdown, Dream must come to terms with the now divided Minecraft community, regain the trust and friendships of his supporters and friends, and handle a budding, unexpected relationship.this is copied & pasted from my account on wattpad @_____mj_____ so ya
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A good day. A bad day. The line had become blurred - cancelled out even ~"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome! there's a few things you should know before reading:
> 
> *chapters will be uploaded as i paste/edit them from wattpad*
> 
> \- trigger warnings/warnings will be here, and if they are significant enough there will be a summary at end of chapter  
> \- though this story will have dnf in it, it's significance is built up and it won't have a major role until later in the story  
> \- the story's timeline is a mess so *imagination* is key  
> \- speckles is a cat predating patches, therefore patches does not exist though speckles' role is similar to patches' in modern day (the story was too depressing to write if it was about patches)  
> \- drista is dream's only sibling in the story, and there is an original character named Marceline :)  
> warning: emetophobia (late chapter)

A good day, that's how it started out.

It had been slightly before noon when Dream decided to stream for the second time in the past week, more frequent than he normally does. He even had an entourage of participants, ranging from his closest friends of George and Sapnap to Fundy and Tommy.

It was Sunday, a day where Dream SMP members didn't normally stream and instead finished measly tasks that would bore their thousands of live viewers. When Dream joined the somewhat active server and announced his live stream into the chat, each avatar managed an appearance in some way or another. Because it was a good day, Dream ignored the many times he was annoyingly punched with a plain fist or had to clean up randomly placed cobblestone or dirt blocks along the oak path spanning throughout the heart of the server.

And because it was a good day, Dream streamed until the sun began to set - hours longer than he normally permitted - and managed a glance outside the body length window-door structured in his room, noticing the orange and red colors becoming beautifully mixed with the purple and blue that would eventually fill the sky.

"Aw, thank you Jessica for the $10 donation."

The keys clacked under Dream's fingers as he aggressively placed stone bricks atop each other, forming a building that had no specific purpose other than to empty his inventory. Perhaps he would turn it into a battle ring, or maybe line impossible parkour along the walls that only he and a few select others would be able to master.

He compared the setting sun outside his window to the one in the field across his screen, the colorful hues matching.

Dream glanced into the list of available video calls and took note at the singleness of his, not that he had invited anyone. George had logged off an hour ago and Sapnap even more recent. Though he could have argued their lack of presence made his playing extra boring, Dream couldn't help but thinking how it was also relaxing. It also allowed him to talk with donations and random questions in the chat.

There were few others currently active on the server, Purpled and Tommy the only other names listed under his, but he would likely have to make horrid small-talk with Purpled and the faint tiredness and headache forming through Dream made Tommy's yelling and random quotes not appealing.

Making his way to the top of his extravagantly plain build, he clicked into third-person and stared at the screen as though he were talking to an audience - the sunset in the background. After frequent hours of staring at the vibrant screen, Dream realized now would be a good time to log off.

"This was a pretty long stream, so I think now would be a good time to end it. Stay safe and take care of yourselves, bye!" Dream crouched excessively and punched at the sky during the phrase, and halted when the light indicating a live feed changed to darkness. He was, in fact, starting to become overwhelmingly tired, and he still had to run to town for select groceries; his extra-long stream had changed his plans to go during light, but the faint sunset would need to be enough to keep him awake for the time being.

Dream's focus was changed to the lock screen of his phone becoming visible, indicating a notification. Reading from his group-chat with Sapnap and George, he read:  
~

  
_**GEORGEEE:** _  
_hey nick and i are streaming tomorrow do you want to join_

  
_**Sap:** _  
_yeah we're going to abuse the children_

~  
Dream internally cringed at the texts, not at the wording but at the question. He usually attempted to take a day or two off a week from participating in anything online, especially Minecraft. Dream had been forced into some type of community stream of Among Us or Minecraft for the past week and a half, and had been looking forward for a break. Not that he didn't appreciate his lifestyle; in fact, he couldn't be more grateful for the opportunities he's had and the people he's met. In every way, he values every experience, good or bad.

But the bad ones are what makes it hard sometimes.

  
And the days off, not fully but partial internet isolation, have become something Dream valued. Taking the day to complete tasks he hasn't had time to do, or complete tasks that he simply enjoys excite his more than it probably should. But, every day he sets aside for his own personal selfish reasons, he makes up for by dedicating entire days to his career. Sometimes he will spend entire days editing, his breaks consisting of appearances in his friends' streams. Others - such as today - he will spend doing his own streams or videos. As soon as he woke up this morning, he put together a montage of speed runs that he would upload later this week.

~

  
**Dream:**  
_I don't think so, but I'll be watching_

  
_**Sap:** _  
_Since when do you refuse abusing Tommy_

  
_**GEORGEEE:** _  
_^yeah_

  
**Dream:**  
_Tomorrow's just not good, I'll make it up to you in a couple days_

  
_**Sap:** _  
_UGH fine_

  
**_GEORGEEE:_ **  
_:[_

~

  
He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, content in the appreciation his friends didn't push him further on the reasoning why he would be able to watch their streams but not be able to participate in them. In case of emergencies, Dream would have important streams playing in the background as he would spend his day around the house, varying from petting Speckles to doing laundry.

  
As though on command, Speckles pushed her way through the partially closed door to his room, giving a chirping meow in an attempt to beg for food.  
Picking her up and petting her silk-like fur, Dream said, "You hungry, sweetie?" Her response was a head butt to his chest.

  
Dream's socks slid slightly across the tiled floor of the hallway, dragging as Dream's eyelids sagged half-way shut. Once arriving to the medium-sized, open kitchen, he took no effort to reach for the top shelf and shovel a small scoop into a slightly open bag. Speckles was secured with his spared arm, but struggled for release as she smelled her dinner for the night.

  
Carefully, he placed her near her food dish titled Speckles, something he had received in fan-mail for his widely adored cat. Pouring the food in the dish, Dream clicked his tongue and said to his distracted and disinterested cat, "I should probably eat too, huh?"

  
Reaching for a bordering cupboard from the food for Speckles, he groaned as he recalled the reasoning for his urgent shopping trip: he had no food. Stale crackers occupied the counter, but Dream knew that wouldn't be a viable dinner.

  
Another groan escaped his lips as he scavenged for a pair of shoes appropriate for a public outing, but realized with the black sweatpants and over-sized t-shirt he had on, a nice pair of shoes would look worse. His other option was changing clothing completely, but he dismisses the absurd thought knowing that if people care what he looks like in a supermarket, then people really have nothing better to do.

  
Not bothering for a sweatshirt, as the warm Floridian temperatures would make it useless, he grabbed the keys placed on a small glass table stationed by his front door. "Bye Speckles," he said to the still aggressively eating cat. Her response was a tail twitch, though the association of it and a goodbye was even more absurd than a clothing change. Dream huffed and shut the door behind him, making his way to the car parked in his short driveway.

  
Dream had bought his house a few months ago; it took him even longer to settle on a location. If he wanted, he could buy a mansion stationed in the best area of Florida. But, he realized moving into an upper-class neighborhood where he assumed people would ask questions on how exactly he made that much money at such a young age, would likely not be appealing to his secret online identity.

  
There were few, anyway, who would be able to identify Clay to Dream.

  
His family, to start. Drista, his mother, and his father had known about his influencer career since it was simply a dream. Then there was Drista's best friend, Marceline. It had been an accident, really; Marceline practically lived at his parent's house, though her presence was either widely known or completely untraceable. When Dream had yet to move out, a casual conversation with Drista in the kitchen had uncovered a hiding Marceline behind a couch. He had a feeling she suspected Dream's internet association for a while, though the overhearing of he and his sister's very blunt conversation about a new Minecraft update and how it would affect his speed-running times allowed Marceline to put the final pieces together.

  
Then last among the inner circle was Sapnap, whom had visited Dream over a year ago. There had been countless times on streams when Sap would brag to George about how he knew the real identity of Dream, and though George had occasionally made defensive remarks back, internally he knew George respected the right to reveal his face how he pleased. Though, a string of guilt often tugged at Dream: George and Sapnap were two very different people, yet his two best friends, and him theirs. He often wondered how he was allowed such a title; how could he be the best friend to someone who doesn't even know what he looks like?

  
And there had been many times when he had taken a full picture of his face on snapchat, tempting the send button and getting his face reveal over with. George was more than deserving of it, yet something held him back. Judgement, maybe, that he will be nothing like George expects. That excuse was probably also why George has also yet to visit.

  
Dream's trance of recollections faded when he stepped into his vehicle, the ignition purring as the key made its way into the hole. A haze fell over Dream's eyes momentarily, fading as he rubbed them ruthlessly. _Just the supermarket_ , he thought to himself. _Ten minutes of driving_.

  
And off he drove, the near empty road as smooth as ice across his tires.  
\----------------------  
The lights covered the grayness of Dream's garage door, now the primary source of vision as the sun had completely set over the horizon introducing the lovely Floridian night sky.

  
His tiredness had temporarily vanished enough when he drove to and from his single errand, and true to his word he had only gone to the supermarket. Though, he grimaced as he glances to the back seat, the now memorized brown bag placed on the floor full of his favorite foods and snacks. The other three bags looked puny compared to the overflowing of the dreaded bag of calories.

  
Shaking his head, he stepped out of his car, the air slightly cooler than it had been when he left though still unworthy of extra layers. Not wanting to take two trips, he stacked two bags on each arm, grunting at the weight he hadn't yet realized as he had carried them from the store in a wheeled cart.

  
Once positioned, Dream shut the car door with his leg and took small steps along his stoned pathway to the door. The tiredness slowly made its way back into Dream's conscience, his arms sagging partially as a response. With two fingers he gripped the silver key into the hole of the door, and Dream smiled when he got it on the first try.

  
Stepping through the door, he was immediately greeted by Speckles, a meow causing a faint smile to perch upon Dream's lips. With the same two fingers he detached the key from the door, a slight pant loosed as he struggled to keep the bags from the floor. After what seemed like minutes, the key deemed itself worthy of release and Dream casually shut the door with his foot behind him.

  
A good day, that's what today had been.

  
Putting the bags on the counter, Speckles rubbed against Dream's leg; he obliged with the unspoken request with a brush of his fingers along her tiger-striped back. "Good girl," he sighed lazily, and left the kitchen ready for a well-deserved shower.

  
Twenty minutes was what it took for a shower, change of clothes, and a teeth brush.

  
Dream glanced at his alarm perched near his dark, wooden bed; _10:21_ , much earlier than the time Dream normally fell asleep. He crawled slowly under his black, grey, and red quilt - so slow he could have been mistaken to have full body arthritis when really it took all his energy to not pass out on the floor beneath him.  
He dared a look at his phone, and it was a string of notifications ranging from texts to twitter to Instagram messages. Not bothering for the unnecessary ones, he scrolled through the plain list of texts.

~

  
_**Mom:** _  
_Goodnight, sweetheart. Come visit soon, Drista misses you though won't admit it._  
**_BadBH:_ **  
_Sorry I couldn't make it on your stream today, but I heard you had a decent turnout, anyway. I'm streaming tomorrow so you should join ;)_  
**_GEORGEEE:_ **  
_hey i know you said you weren't going to come on tomorrow, but i think just about everyone is streaming but you so you should, like, make some sort of appearance. boost the numbers and such_

~

  
A small, pathetic sigh left Dream's lips. Why was tomorrow so important for him to be active?

~

  
_**Mom:** _  
_i might just do that. soon._

  
_**BadBH:** _  
_hey sorry, i don't think i'll be active at all tomorrow. but Iill be watching if that makes you feel better?_

  
_**GEORGEEE:** _  
_sorry, but tomorrow's not a good day._

~

  
He grimaced a bit at the redundancy of the excuse he had now given Sapnap, George, and Bad. He hoped that his luck wouldn't run out and Bad wouldn't push his vagueness of his solidarity tomorrow. He then cringed at the dryness of his text to George. He normally wouldn't send something so plain to someone he was so comfortable with. His texts with George were always long and drawn out, or sometimes consisting of no more than random emojis that piqued the interest of one of the two. Despite this, his response was an appropriate answer, and a few words through a screen shouldn't be worth deciphering. Right?

  
Flopping his head back to his pillow, Dream instinctively reached his arm above his head toward a small gap between pillows, expecting a familiar soft and fuzzy presence. His temporary caress of the bed sheet made him realize Speckles wasn't in her usual spot. Or anywhere in the room for that matter.

  
The faint light of his bedside lamp disappeared when, with no hesitation, Dream pulled himself out of bed and flipped up the small light-switch near the door. Yep, definitely not in the room.

  
Not yet allowing panic to seep in, Dream kept a faster pace and he headed toward the kitchen - the last time he saw Speckles. He pathetically looked under his open dining table, and allowed a distasteful look when it was absent of his cat.

  
A good day, that's what today had been.

  
Now pacing rapidly, he circled the counter in the center of his kitchen, taking notice to the few kernels of cat food left in Speckles' dish. Still no Speckles.

  
No longer dragging his feet he strolled into his open living room accented with the moonlight twinkling through the windows surroundings almost every room in the house. Speckles loves sitting in the small window sill near the entertainment center, or sitting on the top of the richly tan couch to admire Dream as he walked through the house and gave her pats during each passing. Her indention on the couch was void of presence.

  
A good day, that's what today had been.

  
It had likely been there already, but when Dream paused a moment to catch his breath, a cool breeze hit his ankles like a train. Then he turned, and the door he had thought closed earlier was gaped open no more than a foot.

  
Wide-eyed with realization, Dream mumbled _shit_ to himself before running out his door without hesitation.

  
A good day. A bad day.

  
The line had become blurred - cancelled out even, as Dream didn't even make it a full stride out the door when he saw a bundle of brown and white fur on the other side of the road.

  
A choked _no_ left Dream before he found himself in a dead sprint toward his fallen cat. Unmoving. Lifeless.

  
Falling to his knees, he brushed an unhopeful hand across his beloved cat, looking for a sign of life. Nothing. She wasn't breathing; the beautiful, loving, adored cat of thousands of people had been killed due to the carelessness of her owner. _Dream_.

  
He waited for the tears to fall, but instead his eyes were red - unwilling to release the salty water. Almost as a punishment, as though staring at the small bundle of fur wasn't punishment enough. Then instead of an abundance of tears, Dream felt completely and utterly sick to his stomach.

  
Turning, he managed to take a few steps before emptying his stomach onto the road which guided the portrayer of Speckles' demise. The thought made Dream heave again.

  
Finally able to take a breath, he stared once again at his cat - still unable to cry - and sifted through his abundance of thoughts. _How will I break the news? How will people take it? How will I tell people that I am the main cause of my cat's death? Should I tell anyone at all?_

  
And as though he hadn't been selfish and oblivious enough, he asked himself, _how am I going to handle this?_

  
A bad day was what the day was.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading :) sorry it starts out so depressing, it'll get better i swear
> 
> hearts


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He was within his rights to cry. To scream. To shut down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tw

The sun seemed to had laughed at Dream's shaken composure as bits of perfectly structured light made its way through the window and directly into Dream's green and golden-flecked eyes.

  
He sat on the floor with his back to Speckles' favorite couch; he hadn't moved in seven hours - the amount of time since he buried his best friend. The carpet had been mushed into nothing, simply flecks of the black-speckled gray pattern carpet that only occupied his living room and bedroom. 

  
Dream's knees were rubbing his chest as he dug his nails through the sweatpants he had meant to fall asleep in last night. His chin rested on a kneecap, and a fuzzy, white pillow that had fallen to the ground at some point become Dream's new focus point. 

  
He was within his rights to cry. To scream. To shut down. 

  
Instead, he stared at the fuzzy pillow with blatant disinterest, his body unwilling to move as a faint mixture of rage and shock flowed through his veins. Shock was the main word to describe the way he's felt for the past eight hours. It wasn't until Dream had dug a small hole in his backyard an hour later that the rage had started to sink in. Was he even deserving of rage?

  
Perhaps - he _was_ the one who left the door open. He _was_ the one who permitted this situation to happen in the first place. But then the hint of selfishness fogged his thoughts: he _wasn't_ the one behind the wheel. He _wasn't_ the one who killed a random person's cat and drove off as though it had been some inconvenient rock on the road. Maybe an apology would rid Dream of the selfish thoughts, and he would go to blaming the entire accident on himself. Maybe.

  
Dream had stared so intently at the pillow he was sure he could give a somewhat accurate guess at the amount of fluff pieces it contained, and so he took the dreaded look out his window - ignoring the bright sunlight Florida was so accustomed to - and just out his window, in his backyard, was a slightly inclined section of dirt. Plain but noticeable. Dream hadn't yet been able to bring himself to decorate; he owed Speckles that much.

  
He had buried Speckles right outside the window where she would perch and watch the sunset and rise, where she would chirp at birds and tap the glass still blissfully unaware that she couldn't walk through it and meet the grass at her feet.

  
From where he buried her, she would get the best view of the sun every day.

  
The house was dead silent; Dream took small breaths throughout the night but finally released a large sigh as he began to hear car engines starting and neighbors greeting each other with "good mornings." Good morning it was not.

  
A cramp fell through Dream's leg, and his back was tense and sore. He would have to get up eventually.

  
And so he did, grunting as he pulled up his numb body he had ignored for hours. His face was dull and unemotional as he glanced at the bags of groceries on his counter. Thankfully, he didn't buy anything that needed to be in the freezer, though the appreciation for his shopping faded as he took notice to the food dish on the ground. 

  
He waited. Waited for the tears to fall. Waited for emotion to overwhelm him and maybe help him feel better. It never came, and the selfishness multiplied. Was Speckles really not worthy of sadness? Was he not as loving toward her that her loss was less important than he was portraying it to be?

  
Was Speckles really his best friend at all?

  
She _was_ a cat. And he _had_ only had her since he bought his house. 

  
_No_. Dream mentally slapped himself at the thought. Speckles was his best friend. She provided comfort his online friends never could. No judgement, no criticizing, no pity. She listened when he would rant about something stupid that he had done that day, or when he talked about how George had sent him a random text he couldn't decipher. 

  
And to top it off, Speckles was the only one who had seen him cry.

  
Speckles, who was currently unworthy of his tears, had been the only one to see them. Speckles, who had looked at Dream that day curiously as to why her friend was not petting her and giving her attention, and instead rubbed her body across his leg in an attempt of comfort. Speckles, who had unknowingly made Dream laugh that day at her perky little ears and her loud - and somewhat obnoxious - purring. 

  
Nine hours.

  
The clock almost mocked Dream as he scavenged through one of the brown bags of groceries, not looking for anything in particular. A banana, he settled on, and stripped it of its yellow shell and pricking off the end piece.

  
He sat on a wooden barstool bordering his counter and slowly took small bites of the fruit, wondering if it would make him sick or unsettled. It didn't, his stoic demeanor not yet yielding.

  
Though he could easily touch the ground, he purposely shifted to allow his feet to dangle, a distraction of sorts for now. The pillow was no longer in sight and the banana was rapidly evading.

  
A pathetic sigh left Dream's mouth as he found the audacity to think of today. In a few hours, he was meant to watch the several streams from his friends - as he promised. In a few hours, he would get sucked back into his usual life as though nothing had happened. 

  
One tweet was all he needed to send out and his friends and supporters would gratefully grant him a leave. They had granted it for George when he lost his cat, though he didn't take it and stated that being surrounded with his friends and followers was a better healing process than isolation.

  
Dream was inclined to agree, though isolation was exactly what he needed.

  
There were other reasons he needed an occasional day off. To start, he had panic attacks. Not often enough he felt it worthy to dump the information on anyone, but they were there. The frequency of them had seemed to diminish once he found off-days in his schedule. 

  
He also had rage issues. 

  
Those occurrences had not been diminished through isolation days, though they were instead less severe. He had often found his anger to seep into his streams or his interaction with others, though it had become a universally-known part of his personality - Dream could be scary, and to get on his bad side was not the greatest idea. In a way he valued it, knowing there were certain things he could do or say to blend his offline and online personality.

  
He never really found his rage at a focal point, though, and through recollections he realized he never really got mad at one singular person: George. 

  
Dream could argue George's online and offline personality was different, too. Online George was a bashful, blushing avatar who would squeal frequently and didn't really piss anyone off. Offline, George was bolder, and random. _Still a bottom_ , Dream thought to himself, allowing a corner of his lips to rise.

  
He grimaced at the now soggy banana peel empty of its insides, more emotion that he had showed in hours. With dread, he sat up from his chair and walked to his bedroom; his phone's position hadn't changed since last night and he would send out a tweet, unspecific though assuring that Dream had "family issues." Speckles _was_ like family.  
Taking small steps, it took minutes to finally reach his bedroom, the carpet soft against his bare feet. It took no time to notice the repeated flashing of his phone screen in the middle of his bed. Ignore it, Dream told himself, just put out the tweet and shut your phone off. People will understand.

  
The white numbers stationed across his alarm read _7:36_ , a relatively early time to be receiving the multiplying amount of notifications across his screen. When a moment of hesitation passed, Dream picked up his phone and found himself unable to ignore the hundreds of notifications each within the same guideline: he needed to go online.

~

  
_**BadBH:** _  
_You need to come online man. The server is nuts right now_  
_Please_  
_I'll give you a muffin_

  
**_Sap:_ **  
_listen, shit's goin down you need to come on_  
_Tommy's really pissing me off_  
_i wanna murder him but i don't want to hold a trial_

  
_**GEORGEEE:** _  
_everyone is on just come spectate or something_  
_pls ;)_

  
**Twitter**   
_user2935862: Dream Tommy is threatening to steal all your stuff if you don't join_

  
_Dream_luver69: Wilbur is planning an attack js_

  
_kittenpower11: everyone is on why aren't you_

~

  
The comments went on forever, hoarding the section of his most recent tweet. Quackity and Karl had also texted him saying to come on, though their asking was more polite and unaware of his need to not join. If he explained, they would understand.

  
Doing his best to ignore the rapidly incoming texts and notifications, he strolled to his computer set, pulling up Twitch and clicking on Tommy's stream, immediately greeted with a boisterous laugh over what had to be nothing. A brief check of the current status of server attendants showed that everyone was, in fact, either live or active. _Why was everyone on so early?_

  
A moment of weakness almost allowed Dream to pull up Minecraft; whatever everyone's reasons were to all be active at the same time should probably outweigh his need to not be active. He closed his eyes and sighed. No, he needed a day off. In fact, he needed a week off.

  
Clicking on Twitter, he typed: _Hey guys. Due to family issues, I will be taking a short break from streaming and being active. Hope you guys understand._ Simple. People were bound to ask questions but the majority would choose to respect it.

  
His thumb hovered over the _tweet_ button, and when Dream aimed his thumb lower, he was interrupted by Tommy.

  
"Woah, Dream is watching my stream, chat? Hey Big D, if you don't join the server you're a pussy." Another loud laugh echoed through his speakers, and suddenly Dream's thumb was no longer near his phone and was reaching for his mouse.

  
"Fine," Dream mumbled angrily, "I'll join."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chapter but it'll be worth it
> 
> hearts


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Passing the array of buildings with random and intricate designs, Dream once again found himself in a state of reflection, recalling the wonderful growth of the server. And how easily he could take it away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning - fighting? no gore or anything
> 
> \- imagine while reading this chapter that Dream and everyone else are real people fighting for the full experience :) and if you wanna play a villain playlist, that's cool too

  
Dream's knee bounced rapidly in anticipation.

  
The loading screen to join the server had been swirling for a mere five seconds, but to Dream it felt like five hours. Every vein in his body was seeping with rage. He couldn't help it anymore; his final straw were the words of a sixteen-year-old child. 

  
_Big D._

  
Tommy had innocently though recklessly called him that during the inauguration of their friendship, and when Dream made it clear that being called literally any other nickname than that was more appropriate or tolerable, Tommy did his best to obey. Big Man, D, hell even Clay was encouraged.

  
_Pussy._

  
Sapnap had called him the word before for play, and Dream had jokingly used it to others or to refer to himself in certain situations; the word never even sparked an eye twitch. But now, it was almost a trigger for his rage. The past twelve hours of pestering, tormenting, and blindness of his friends toward his wishes had been built up, and now as a result Dream stared intently into the now blue, Minecraft sky covering his screen - wondering how far this rage would take him.

  
_Dream has joined the game_

  
Reading the not-so-subtle notification in his lower left screen made him grin - a feline, villainy grin that would plaster his face for the time being. The chat started blowing up with texts from almost every username on the server.

  
_TommyInnit: Oh shit_

  
_TommyInnit: DREMA_

  
_TommyInnit: DREAM_

  
_Tubbo_: Hey man :)_

  
_BadBoyHalo: You joined!_

  
_GeorgeNotFound: join the vc_

  
_Callahan: most of us are by tommy's house_

  
_ItsFundy: hello_

  
_TommyInnit: Dream they are abusnig me_

  
_WilburSoot: Tommy shut up_

  
_Sapnap: You started it asshole_

  
The grin didn't fade as Dream circled around his pathetic pillar he had been happily building just yesterday. From the height, he was able to see the significant amount of people by Tommy's house, though he also took notice at the random avatars running at various parts of the world. Purpled, Alyssa, and Ponk, at least. They were smarter than to get involved in shenanigans that could put them in a uncomfortable situation.

  
Jumping down onto a tree, he placed a water bucket at the last second and glanced at his still full row of hearts. _They're fucked_ , he mumbled to himself.

  
As though he was his avatar - bringing his now composed and motivated demeanor outside of Minecraft to his screen character - Dream merely walked to the huddle surroundings Tommy's pathetic dirt house. Smiling behind the screen, without realizing he tilted his head slightly - cockily, mainly - clicking the group vc that he had been asked to join.

  
"Hello everyone. What seems to be the problem?" It took a moment for a single response to come through, then he suddenly found everyone talking at once.

  
"Tommy's being an idiot." _When is he not._

  
"He blew up part of my new build." _Ok? Fix it then._

  
"He keeps placing signs on everyone's houses." _He's done this since day one._

  
Dream stayed silent as he gave the impression he was digesting each comment and accusation. Waiting for a break in conversations, Dream glanced at the server list. Dream, GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, Punz, Ponk, ItsAlyssa, Tubbo_, TommyInnit, Technoblade, ItsFundy, WilburSoot, BadBoyHalo, Purpled, and Callahan were active. Quite a broad selection.

  
Suddenly the chatter died down through his mic, the others obviously waiting for Dream to speak. So he did.

  
"There's a simple solution to this," he said nonchalantly. Turning to Tommy, he changed what was once his plain fist and switched to his crossbow. The enchanted, overpowering, valued, and feared crossbow, and within a moment Tommy's character flashed red, signifying damaged health. Now Dream's smile reached both corners of his lips.

  
"Hey, what the hell," Tommy squealed, and another shot from his bow faded his avatar into nothing. 

  
_TommyInnit was slain by Dream_

  
"TRIAL! TRIAL!" Tommy was yelling through the call, but Dream merely watched as he scrambled from his hillside house - respawning from the plain white bed - though hesitating when Dream's crossbow wasn't yielded and instead was pointed once again at his avatar. "Listen Dream, you know everything I do has a purpose, right? So that means that everything I did to other people on this server was automatically justified. Now if you'll just let me grab my stuff, then I'll think about not making you go to trial."

  
Dream scoffed lightly, so soft it likely didn't go through his mic. "I don't think that's how it works on _my_ server." Without further justification, Dream left the vc, pulling a flint and steel out of his inventory and strolling toward the bundle of items placed a few blocks in front of him. With no hesitation, and so quick no one was able to comprehend what he was doing, Dream burned what had to be a full inventory of items.

  
Ever so slowly he pulled his glare from the fire to the surrounding characters. Though he couldn't tell emotions through a screen, and had left the video call, he could tell he was currently feared. He laughed when he saw at least two avatars slowly backing away. 

  
Switching from the flint and steel back to his crossbow, he aimed it toward Fundy and fired. He was one of the most vulnerable, his golden pants being his only form of protection. The others' armor was similar, most not bothering for their diamond or netherite armor as they likely weren't expecting one of the deadliest Minecraft players ever to attack them over nothing. _Fools,_ Dream thought to himself, and in the second it took for it to register to Fundy he was now being hunted, Dream fired again and watched as scattered items exploded throughout the grassy area, immediately burning them after as though they were nothing.

  
_ItsFundy was slain by Dream_

  
Looking around, he realized the others had started running, likely to find better armor or to hide. Dream would have to beat them to it, and suddenly the newfound challenge formed a new adrenaline rush as he ran after his next target.

  
Callahan looked especially vulnerable as he held no sort of armor.

  
An iron sword occupied his hand as he ran away from Dream's position, but it wouldn't even deal a heart if he were to fight Dream. _Why are you running Callahan? Come play._ He debated firing an arrow or hitting him with his axe, settling on a single arrow as he shot it down the wooden path multiple avatars were sprinting down. With that one shot, Callahan faded into nothing. _Not as many items,_ Dream thought, _but still burnable._

  
_Callahan was slain by Dream_

  
The flint and steel fell into the yellow bar of durability, though it would take catching a hundred more items on fire for it to become an inconvenience.

  
Taking a moment to quickly circle his current position, scanning for players, he noticed Sapnap hadn't yet moved from outside Tommy's house. Maybe he thought himself an exception for the hunting spree; he thought wrong.

  
_Sapnap: join me and George's vc_

  
Sapnap: now

  
Another scoff left Dream as he sprinted toward the white-shirted avatar. Sapnap had on half-diamond armor, half-iron. Most was enchanted, though Dream knew the set was not his primary; he favored netherite, and the enchantments spanning the pathetic iron armor had to have not been stronger than protection. Either way, Sap shared a similar fate to his last victims.

  
_Sapnap: dream now_

  
Now mere blocks away from his still friend, Dream fired an arrow and watched as the skin turned red for a moment. Pulling out his sword he was able to strike twice before Sapnap pulled out his own sword and fought for his life. 

  
One hit, two hearts from his health bar. Nothing.

  
Dream struck again, landing a sharp hit that likely stole an extra heart than previously. 

Sap circled Dream a moment before attempting a hit, which Dream swiftly blocked with his shield. Dream contemplated whether Sap was genuinely trying to fight him, but decided to ignore it and use the pathetic actions to his advantage.

Sapnap sprinted away for a moment, disclosing a frantic type to the chat.

Sapnap: wth is wrng w u

Dream pulled out his crossbow and aimed it at his friend, deciding that one last hit would likely end him. But not before he was distracted with damage to his own health.

  
Turning quickly and annoyed, he saw the familiar white goggles plastered across a blue-shirted avatar, and an unenchanted bow faced toward him. Dream almost laughed at the sight.

  
Dream's momentary fragment of distraction allowed Sapnap to run to George, his first mistake. Now they were together, much easier to kill.

  
His crossbow aimed at the duo, and though George did his best to shield Sap, a right shoulder provided just enough vulnerability for Dream to shoot. And he did, noting the splattering of enchanted items, diamonds, and iron at least before George scooped it up. In a moment of realization, George switched the bow with a diamond sword and ran. Backwards, off the cliff that almost bordered Wilbur's ball that dangled nearby.

  
_Sapnap was slain by Dream_

  
Dream clutched his mouse a bit harder though found himself utterly unbothered by the fact he would have to chase his prey. Even if it was his best friend.

  
Jumping from the cliff, Dream placed the oh-so-familiar water bucket below him, allowing a few second gain as George had to climb down the ladder. Jumping over blocks and ducking under trees, he wondered what George would do when he would end up cornered in thirty seconds near a river that would take several seconds to cross, and a tree Dream had memorized would allow him to pounce without suspicion or hesitation.

  
And sure enough, he spotted the upcoming river, especially when George did, too, as his avatar paused for a brief second and veered right. Dream allowed himself a moment for food - a moment George wouldn't have time for and if he wouldn't be cornered in a river, a food break would be the next best thing.

  
The pink-tinted glimmer of his crossbow shone in Dream's hand as he ran after the scared avatar; a brief moment of pity fell through Dream. It really wasn't a fair fight, as George had only iron pants and boots on, though equipped Sapnap's diamond chest plate sometime since picking it up. _Still has to die,_ Dream thought. He _did_ push Dream extensively to come on today. He may as well get the full experience.

  
Reaching the familiar plains area, Dream flicked his tongue over the front of his teeth in anticipation - George was eating raw porkchops. _Since when is he ever this unprepared while on the server?_

  
Just for fun, Dream shot an arrow while running and it hit directly beside George, causing the player to turn slowly and face his demise. 

  
_Aw now Georgie, don't act so scared. It'll be quick and painless._

  
George was still eating a porkchop as Dream rapidly approached him, though looked around frantically for an escape. When it seemed George took focus on the continuing river they had been following, Dream took his sword and slashed him, the familiar red brightening his screen.

  
In temptation, Dream allowed George a moment to gather himself; maybe he would try to hit him with the diamond sword somewhere in his hotbar. Or try to run again, though Dream eyed his crossbow he would use for that situation. As though predicting it, George took out his sword and hit Dream, two hearts falling into darkness opposite his hotbar.

  
_Now we're talking._

  
Dream retaliated with his axe he hadn't yet used, jumping and placing a sharp hit to what could have been George's head.

  
George backed away for a moment, and Dream walked after him, settling on quipping his crossbow - the weapon that would deal the most damage. George once again looked to the river, and hadn't even turned fully to run that direction when Dream fired and watched an explosion of particularly expensive items. 

  
_GeorgeNotFound was slain by Dream_

  
He took the ender pearls that had been dropped, the four blue-like eyes added to the other six in his hotbar. To finish off his act, he set fire to the items, basking in the flames that rose in the server.

  
_Who's next?_ Dream murmured, smiling to himself. 

  
Chucking an ender pearl back near one of the main stretches of the server, he eyed Alyssa frantically scavenging through the random chests on the side of the common oak pathway, or entering the buildings housing different chests. Either way, she was searching for something. And she was distracted.

  
Dream crouched for a brief moment, clicking into third person as he watched Alyssa look into an ender chest placed in Tommy's tower. A part of him wanted to know what she was getting, though realized she would be an easy kill as she would be unable to suspect an attack with her head buried in a chest. So he struck, and had placed four hits before Alyssa managed a turn of her body. 

  
Bored with his sword, he quipped it and shot right into the chest of Alyssa, her items scattering in the small floor of the blackstone tower. And then he eyed it - a totem of undying. _Since when did anyone have those?_ She wasn't fast enough to be able to equip it - lucky Dream. 

  
_ItsAlyssa was slain by Dream_

  
He took it, adding it to his half-full inventory and quickly burning the particularly boring set of items. He decided not to equip the totem, waiting to use it at the right time.

  
Dream strolled back to the pathway, ignoring Tommy's nametag in the corner of his eye. He had already gotten what he deserved. He needed new prey.

  
Sprinting and jumping, Dream aimed for the community house in hopes someone would be hiding there. He was so focused on the road ahead of him he almost missed the split second of Ponk's nametag in the corner of his screen, it fading as it likely made it out of distance.

  
Jumping up a hill, Dream looked at the granite, quartz, and sandstone build that was being created in the distance - Ponk placing a strip of blocks across its width.   
Squinting his eyes a moment, he took notice as Ponk looked at Dream - unfazed. _Has he not seen the list of deaths in the chat?_

  
As though his oblivious nature wasn't enough, Ponk crouched repeatedly, urging Dream's presence closer. He obeyed, watchfully. 

  
_Ponk: do u like?_

  
Dream stared at the extravagant pattern sketching the walls. He did like it, surprisingly, though he had no idea what it could be.

  
A strain of hesitance went through Dream before he pulled out his sword. Ponk looked at him almost in bewilderment, then realization. Almost like it occurred to him he wasn't an exception to the mass murdering of the server. 

  
Ponk didn't fight, though didn't run either. Almost like he couldn't and waited for the inevitability of his death. He just looked at Dream's avatar, unyielding and holding his place. With five slashes of his sword, Ponk was dead. Dream only burned half his items - a reward for his unburdening presence.

  
_Ponk was slain by Dream_

  
He headed back toward the road, and looked at Tubbo standing at his house's doorway. Waiting for Dream.

  
Dream obeyed the unsaid orders and trekked through the brick borders of Tubbo's estate. His crossbow was quipped in case of a surprise attack, though if Tubbo were to be sneaky he would likely opt for a redstone trap deeming his weapons and armor useless.

  
He was surprised when Tubbo only backed further into his house and typed a lone message into the chat.

  
_Tubbo_: Just don't kill my bees_

  
As the two avatars stared at each other, Dream motioned his head to go down, agreeing to the asking. Then Tubbo turned, taking off his armor and chucking it on the floor. Moving closer to Dream - crossbow still quipped - he crouched in front of him, looking down. 

  
_Tubbo_ was slain by Dream_

  
Dream didn't burn his items.

  
As he exited the extravagantly built house, Dream groaned a bit to himself as he stared at the clock.

  
_Ten hours._

  
Not only had another hour passed since the upbringing of his emotional rollercoaster, but he wasn't finding as much enjoyment in killing his friends. Still, he ventured away in search of a new victim, and almost perfectly there was Purpled and Punz at each other's sides, equipped with full netherite armor and weapons.  
It was that moment Dream regained his wicked, intimidating smile. 

  
He looked into his inventory for a moment, noting the totem sitting in the top row. _Not yet_ , he thought. He then rearranged a few items he deemed helpful in a two versus one situation. 

  
Sprinting toward the duo, he suddenly had a gut feeling to turn around and immediately found himself shielding a charging BadBoyHalo. Chucking an enderpearl across the way, Dream admired the effort. Yes, he was outnumbered, but his fighting skills were endlessly better than those of his friends.

  
Bad only had on iron armor, though he made up for it with his enchanted diamond sword. Bad recklessly charged again and Dream shot an arrow puncturing the plain, silver chestplate. From the opposite corner of his screen, Punz had now started approaching his position, and Dream threw another pearl precisely behind Punz's running line, entering his blind spot and using his axe for the first hit, switching immediately to his sword to allow another hit. 

  
Now he quipped his crossbow, hitting Purpled who was towering to a tall tree overlooking their fighting area. He fell to the ground and Dream snorted at the red spurt of his avatar. 

  
Dream almost flinched at a sudden hit to his armor, watching as three hearts lost their color. Turning he was met with Bad's shimmering sword, and found himself blocking a hit with his shield. _Bold now, aren't you_. In retaliation, even from the few block distance, he shot at Bad, then turning and shooting at Punz - bullseyes.  
Suddenly Dream was on fire, an arrow puncturing his health; it took a moment to find a crouching Purpled behind a smaller tree in the distance. 

  
Half-a-heart, one down.

  
The fire sizzled into nothing as Dream placed his water bucket below his feet, having no choice but to allow a moment of weakness. 

  
Five hearts down.

  
A double strike from Bad and Punz had Dream cursing under his breath. He had been going too easy.

  
Flinging another ender pearl, Dream struck hard with his axe, now laughing at how unprepared Purpled was at the contact. He had obviously been building - his lack of essential pvp weapons obvious - but his armor made up for his vulnerability. He never took his armor off, anyway. Though, his bow wasn't even enchanted, likely something he crafted hurriedly once he realized he was prey.

  
Dream was not allowing a grace period; no more taunting. 

  
He struck back-to-back, and watched as an assortment of blocks scattered the area. Flames took their place, and Dream turned around to an eating Bad - obviously low health - and a likely scatter-brained Punz, as he seemed to be skewering his inventory for something he likely didn't have. 

  
_Purpled was slain by Dream_

  
Dream took his first step forward when he was met with a familiar name in the chatbox.

  
_GeorgeNotFound: I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but get your shit together_

  
And though Dream had told himself no more taunting, he found himself replying.

  
_Dream: no I don't think I will, gogy_

  
His focus was brought back to the pathetic duo of avatars in front of him. They hadn't given up fighting, though he had a feeling they knew they would lose. Bad surged forward once more, swinging his sword which Dream - for the third time - blocked. _Mix up your weapons. Something. This is pathetic._

  
Punz shot forward with an iron axe, which Dream simply moved two blocks to avoid. Now determined, he once again relied on his sword and focused on Bad. 

  
One hit, two hits, four hits. 

  
_BadBoyHalo was slain by Dream_

  
Not yet finding time to eat, Dream took notice to the one heart that fell shaded near the others. _Half health. Plenty._

  
Ignoring Punz's attack, he fired an arrow from his crossbow, smirking as it hit his target. Punz as a result was pushed back - weakened, at least, as he had to regain composure in order to strike again. Dream took advantage of this, squinting and tensing at his screen as he aggressively swung his sword toward his avatar friend.

  
_Punz was slain by Dream_

  
As though it was nothing, Dream ate a steak through the screen, and took a sip of lukewarm water sitting on his desk - completely unbothered.

  
Resting back partially in his chair, he scrolled through the abundance of chats he had caused in the past half-hour. _Almost everyone_ , he thought, _but there's someone missing_. Scrolling through the player list, he realized he had forgotten two players.

  
Wilbur, whom had supposedly been plotting against him.

  
And Technoblade. Not Dream's greatest enemy, per se, but rather his equal. Mainly.

  
Dream realized he had no idea where either of the players were currently located, though headed toward the small van Wilbur had built just across the way. 

  
On the journey, Dream momentarily reflected on the complete and utter lack of nametags he saw. Not one had left the game after their death, though they were no where to be found. Not that he wanted to find them; they were ... handled.

  
After a minute of sprint-jumping along the path and a temporary veer past Tommy's house, Dream sure enough saw a nametag titled WilburSoot running around in no specific direction. With as much slyness as he could manage, Dream peaked over a hillside and saw an assortment of potions switching in Wilbur's hands.

  
_Drug dealer_ , he had often called himself. Likely an accurate term.

  
Uncrouching, Dream revealed himself, waiting for the focused avatar to glance his direction. And finally it did, and whether it was out of fear or protection, a new notification appeared in the chat.

  
_WilburSoot has left the game_

  
_Interesting_ , Dream thought, strolling down the medium-sized hill toward the van. He wanted to see if there was anything worth protecting. 

  
Opening the iron door, Dream's eyes widened a bit at the rows of brewing potions on their stands. All different colors. All different purposes. Some were even still in the beginning stage, making their finality even more unpredictable.

  
Debating taking them all - burning them, even - he settled on something new. Something he hadn't yet felt was necessary, or had only found that this situation needed a punishment only it could provide. Then he pulled out the flint and steel, striking the wooden floor in enough places it would become irredeemable.   
Walking out the iron door he had once walked through, he watched as he set the small white van in flames.

  
~~

  
His stroll back to the community house was long and tiring. Through his mind, Dream wondered if Technoblade was worth fighting. He had not pestered him about today. He hadn't even bugged him once he was on the server, though his silence and tendency to keep to himself was fairly normal.

  
Then he decided. 

  
He wouldn't kill Technoblade.

  
His time on the server was almost finished, and now he would be online even less now that he allowed one less kill. One that could take hours or seconds. He was now only going to the community house to make a statement.

  
His moment of reflection was intercepted by the new notification in the chat.

  
_WilburSoot has joined the game_

  
Though it would have been justified, Dream decided turning back when he had just set his most important structure would be cruel. Ish.

  
Passing the array of buildings with random and intricate designs, Dream once again found himself in a state of reflection, recalling the wonderful growth of the server. And how easily he could take it away.

  
It _was_ called the Dream SMP.

  
And whether it would be deleting the server altogether, or burning down every building, item, and achievement, he had the power to destroy everything. And every _one_ , apparently.

  
Dream released a sigh of relief as he saw the small pond that had been infiltrated with a couple houses and additional storage areas or structures. As soon as his feet met the varying wooden path, he suddenly felt eyes on him.

  
Everywhere, everyone.

  
Circling he saw each player he had killed - George and Sapnap included - stationed at some higher point than Dream, each holding a potion. _Harming, weakness._ He subconsciously hummed to himself in wondering.

  
He noted all but Wilbur and Technoblade's nametag, though he assumed Wilbur was the one distributing potions. Then suddenly, on the opposite side of the community house, was the one-worded name that he wouldn't yet come to dread.

  
_Dream: Technoblade! my friend. how are you?_

  
When it was obvious he wasn't coming closer, Dream ventured through the house, meeting Techno's pig face at the opposite end of the pathway stretch. He had on full netherite armor. _Typical_ , Dream associated. But his fist was empty. Almost welcoming, though Dream should have know better.

  
Waiting for a reply, Dream stared intently at the red-cape tints hovering outside his glowing armor. It was hard to miss when the plain fist turned into an axe - enchanted and overpowering. 

  
The others were likely on a mutual video call, and he assumed there was active chatter when Techno looked in no specific direction, just glances at each towering avatar, and not-so-subtly shook his head. _Calling off his hounds?_

  
Before he knew it, Techno walked toward his position, axe in hand and looking determined even through a computer screen.

  
Maybe it was instinct, but Dream fixated a sword in his hands - rather than his axe - as it would allow him hits faster. Cracking his knuckles, he quickly typed into the chat:

  
_Dream: game on_  
And suddenly two of the most deadly Minecraft players were hurtling toward each other, ready for a fight to the death.

~~

  
Techno landed the first hit, to Dream's surprise, but he retaliated with a double hit with his sword, jumping from his front to his behind in order to manage success. Each hit mattered.

  
Jumping in the water, Dream followed the cocky pig skin into the coral-decorated pool, wondering what his plan was. When Techno disappeared into a small hole in the ground, it took effort not to wonder how and when he had managed the disappearing method.

  
It was easy enough to fall down, and Dream suddenly found himself in a small, enclosed, underground base. _The basement_ , he realized, the one he made in the early days of the server at an attempt for isolation. Ironic.

  
A depletion of his hearts brought Dream back to reality, and he blocked another hit with his shield while noting the number of hearts across his screen. He had lost 3, and Techno likely had only lost one and a half.

  
Dream jumped to the side in the brief moment Techno's axe needed to regenerate, and his sword struck the vulnerable avatar, a temporary wave of relief and excitement flowing through his body.

  
The confined box they were in also needed to be temporary, and against his better judgement he made his way to the ladder, shield up, blocking Techno's aggressively-accurate strikes. Once the ladder was directly behind him, he allowed the shield to fall, taking a hit that would take away one and a half more hearts and allow a momentary break to escape.

  
His crossbow was quipped as he traveled up the ladder, and he fired once again during his last glance at the shield-less Techno.

  
The pig skin immediately followed Dream's journey to regular level, and once more he fired, pausing the avatar as it glowed red briefly.

  
He only had a second to find a vantage point, though outside was not an option. Even if Techno had waved them off, he was likely welcomed to be potioned-to-death as soon as he attempted escape. _Justified_ , he supposed.

  
Instead he fled up the stairs, finding himself in the center of the vacant fish tank once housing Beckerson and several other server-famous fish. A cobblestone staircase was located in the corner, but he wouldn't use it yet. Instead he backed into an opposite corner, his crossbow waiting for his foe to join his level. But he didn't come, and it was too late when he realized the nametag directly under his feet - mining the block he stood on.

  
Falling only a few blocks, the red he had seen on his skin was more of a mock; a fall that small wouldn't be harmful. Instead, the new red his skin faced was not mocking as it took yet another strike from Techno's axe. Half health. _What in the world was on that axe?_

  
Dream once again took advantage of the cooling off period and double struck, jumping and striking in hopes for more damage. Once Techno placed another not as hard hit, Dream fled back up the stairs and ascended on the cobblestone blocks he had once eyed in the corner; this time Techno followed.

  
Circling the rim, the birch became a lifeline for Dream as he ran from Techno a few blocks below him. He then jumped to the outer ring and fired an arrow pricking the opposite avatar. 

  
Techno must have realized his station of vulnerability as he too now joined Dream on the top of the fish tank; they now stood at opposite ends, each holding a weapon with a shimmering layer.

  
Dream took a shot at Techno, but he dodged it with a dive into the water. When he realized Techno would swim to his location, Dream flung an ender pearl in his blind spot, attacking with his sword through the water. Turning, they both faced each other once again, fighting to the death in a few block deep fish tank.

  
A series of random hits occurred as they struggled, neither yet coming up for air. Techno fled backwards for a brief moment and Dream shot an arrow through the water, though it fell to the sandy floor with ease.

  
A flash of red surrounded Dream's green avatar, and he realized he now needed to come up for air. And retreat from their water battle.

  
Swimming opposite the direction of Technoblade, and refusing to notice his trailing enemy, he climbed out of the water and back once again on the rim of the roof. He sprinted a moment before he found himself jumping into the lake below, wanting out of the wooden community house.

  
In mid-air, he was suddenly off his original free-falling path and hurtled toward one of the pathways with another depletion of hearts. 

  
Four hearts left.

  
The landing on the pathway almost doubled the loss, and turning back to where he jumped he saw Technoblade wielding an enchanted bow of unknown worth. _He shot me in the air, a nice change of pace though why is he just now showing his bow?_

  
Dream attempted to hold his bold composure off-screen as he frantically attempted to eat bread from his inventory, though was once again wounded by the familiar axe.

  
He quipped his crossbow as he backed away, managing a double shot to hit his enemy. _He has to be at least down to half-health,_ Dream mumbled to himself.

Techno then sprinted and jumped landing an especially brutal attack bringing him down to two hearts. Chucking an ender pearl to a different path - one that would leave him exposed to potions - he took the few seconds of freedom to eat, hopefully regaining part of his health.

  
As Techno approached him through the water - keeping low to prevent attack - Dream fired an arrow anyway, and frowned as it missed. He backed away another step, and would shoot another arrow as soon as he emerged. He realized Techno likely predicted this as he swam, circling Dream's position. But Dream wasn't dead yet, and he still had a couple ideas left.

  
A slight lump of underwater blocks would cause Techno to come close enough to the surface to shoot, and when the arrow fired he smirked as he watched the avatar veer out further away from the path. Techno hadn't yet eaten either, and he would attack at the precious opportunity.

  
He noticed Techno flipping through his hotbar, an assortment of items revealed though he couldn't name them all through the blue water and random salmon blocking his view. And then suddenly he was eating a golden apple, and his stomach churned at the action. Techno had been so slick there was no opportunity to attack, and he now instead had to wait until a different move was taken.

  
Dream searched his inventory for the second time, hoping he too would find a golden apple. And then he spotted something he completely forgot about: the totem of undying.

  
Grinning again, he shifted his shoulders behind the screen, forming a new plan.

  
He would now attack Techno, no retreats, no breaks. Just back-to-back hits until both their healths would likely deplete.

  
Then he jumped into the water, watching as Techno pulled his head toward Dream's direction. Within seconds they were swimming toward each other - axe versus axe.

  
Dream squinted his eyes in focus at his screen, repeatedly clicking the keys that swung his weapon toward his enemy. Flashes of red filled the screen, both avatars depleting rapidly; the battle was even, though Dream would die sooner as he didn't get the bonus of a golden apple.

  
When Dream had one heart, he dodged a hit from Techno and in what took no more than a blink of an eye, he turned as he switched his shield for the totem, then allowing Techno another hit. He grinned wondering what his face was when he thought he had killed him, only to see the spurts of gold as the totem went into effect.

  
Full health.

  
Now Techno retreated, obviously in fear for his life. Dream chased immediately, his sword now occupying his hand. It almost looked as though Techno was herding him toward the borders, hoping someone would splash a potion and equal the fight once again. Dream was smarter.

He veered toward the house - still underwater - and gained a few block distance from Techno. It was now time for a risk.

  
Finding his ender pearls, he briefly made his way above water and threw it to the shore where Techno would approach in mere seconds. Once he took the slight damage from the teleportation, he dove once again in the water, hitting Techno twice before he could retaliate.

  
This was it.

  
Techno managed to steal four hearts before Dream made the final blow, and suddenly items were flung in every direction - a couple on land, but mostly in the water. Inconvenient to burn, though he could just take them. His axe seemed to be quite powerful.

  
_Technoblade was slain by Dream_

  
Dream looked up for a brief moment and saw a few of the other avatars herding toward each other, the potions no longer quipped.

  
Chuckling to himself, he quickly found sanctuary under a tree, burned the few items he could, and scavenged through the ones he picked up. The axe had every possible enchantment - completely overpowering. _A few solid hits and I would've been dead much sooner_ , he thought to himself, _so how did I win?_ _The totem merely balanced out the fight._

  
Bringing back full focus to his screen, he decided to burn the axe, throwing it in the still flaming fire just in front of him. In fact, he burned every item of Techno's without a single form of guilt.

  
Dramatically looking around at the surrounding of players, he decided to venture back to the community house. Within seconds he was back on the roof, building up cobblestone blocks to a towering height where everyone would be able to see him. And for more dramatic effect, he quipped his feared crossbow in no specific direction before he joined the community video call.

  
And to his surprise, it was silent - as though everyone was holding their breaths.

  
Taking a deep breath, he broke it. "My fellow members of the SMP, allow this to be life lesson for you all. One, to never think that any of you could ever beat me." He grimaced to himself a moment before continuing. "Techno, luck of the draw. Sucks to suck. Anyway, and two ... don't fucking bug me on my day off."

  
_Dream has left the game_

  
~~

  
Despite his somewhat selfish and unnecessary reasons, Dream thought he should celebrate what could have very easily not been a victory. He _had_ killed an entire server full of people with varying skills, even if some didn't consist of fighting.

  
As he stood up from his chair, he stretched his back somewhat dramatically, staring as his turned-over phone sitting just beside his computer. Picking it up, he knew there was an influx of notifications he had no intention to acknowledge, and instead completely shut down his phone. He wasn't in the mood to read what were likely angry and confused messages coming from his friends or followers. 

  
He also wasn't in the mood to give an explanation.

  
So, he left his phone on the desk and strolled to his kitchen. The sun had now fully risen and was visible over the large ocean that was merely a few miles away.  
Then he saw it - the Speckles titled food dish.

  
And he froze, staring at it almost hoping it would either disappear or change into something else. It didn't.

  
Suddenly, the rage he had felt earlier multiplied and he bent over, picking it up and chucking it as hard as he could across his house. He then pushed the multiple bags of food off the counter, watching as their contents splattered across the floor. 

  
In a final spurt of his rage, he knocked over the barstools, not flinching despite the loud noise they made when they hit the hard tile. Then the rage shifted to sadness.

  
The sadness he had not yet felt - that he was apparently bottling in, he realized, as he suddenly found himself falling toward a wall, bringing his fingers through his hair as he finally let out the tears he had been begging to come out. And then his face was a waterfall, and out his mouth dispersed huge, unyielding, mountain-moving sobs.

  
He cried for hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all! you guys found this story so much faster on this website lol
> 
> again, i am copying the current published chapters to here and editing them because i want you guys to be as caught up as wattpad, so as i hurry to edit please ignore things i miss/italics/paragraph indentations - i'll look over it again eventually i swear
> 
> i have several chapters already written, though if you have critiques for my writing style i would love to know! i know it can get confusing at times on who's talking, but for reference most chapters will be Dream-fixated and if not i'll let you guys know
> 
> hearts


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know, I know. Once is funny, two's a coincidence, but three, well, that's what we're heading back for."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tw
> 
> -chapter is other povs

  
**George**

  
Everyone was on the server.

  
It was meant to be a big lore day for the SMP and everyone wanted a head start - some even started streaming before the sun rose in the morning. For George, it was just before noon, the time zone for once in his favor.

  
He was only on and streaming because everyone else was, all except for Dream.

  
He had texted him several times despite his better judgement, but he genuinely had more fun when playing with his best friend. George massively respected Dream - so much so that he respectfully allowed Dream to hide his face from him, even though he was sure he deserved it - and would normally be understanding of Dream's vagueness of not wanting to play on the SMP today. But he kept pushing for some unknown reason.

  
When he had first joined there were about five others active, but within an hour every notable nametag was travelling throughout the server. Only a few weren't streaming, but even with the large group of live feeds of the same context hoarding Twitch's feed there were thousands of viewers for each. 

  
The first of his list of tasks to accomplish on stream was building a house, but when it apparently interfered with Tommy's sewer system, a bucket of lava and TNT later George found himself blown up and killed by Tommy. Most of his stuff either burned or exploded and he was left with little. So now, George's keys groaned under his fingers as he aggressively hit them while running after white and red shirted child. 

  
Not only had he targeted George directly, but also Sapnap for a bit so they both chased after him with no other purpose then to stress him out. When they had somehow circled almost the entirety of the server, they had found themselves at Tommy's house. Callahan and Fundy were nearby and took the hint; there was now a huddle forming around Tommy.

  
Looking at his phone, George picked it up and made one last attempt for peace on the server. 

~  
 _ **Dream 💛**_

  
everyone is on just come spectate or something

pls ;)

~

  
He looked at the two texts with slight distaste, though eagerly awaited a response. They hadn't communicated since Dream's stream yesterday besides he and Sapnap's nagging. The smiley-face was his attempt to keep it light-hearted, and he hoped it would be enough to attract the familiar green skin to his screen.  
As he rotated his avatar's vision, he noticed Sapnap dramatically circling Tommy's position, pause for a moment, then continue. The chat was also blowing up with random texts.

~  
 _Sapnap: if you hit me one more time I'm blowing up your house you child_

  
_Sapnap: in fact, we can go to the fight club rn_

  
_Sapnap: fight me_

  
_WilburSoot: Tommy come here please_

  
_ItsFundy: why am I here_

  
_ItsAlyssa: ponk do you have any melon seeds?_

  
_Ponk: no :(_

~

  
George knew most were communicating via vc, and that most of the comments were for dramatic effect. 

  
"George I'm about to make him eat shit, why are you standing there. Also I texted Dream and he hasn't responded." The echo in Sapnap's voice through George's mic brought him out of his trance.

  
"I did, too. I don't know, something's wrong. I-" Suddenly George's breath hitched at the notification hidden inside the string of messages.

  
_Dream has joined the game_

  
"Oh. Maybe I was wrong," George continued. "Where even is he?"

  
"I don't know." George watched as Sapnap circled around in search of their friend that would likely appear from the shadows. "Should we join the public vc?"

  
"Maybe, let's just see what he does first. He will probably only want to talk to us." 

~  
 _TommyInnit: Oh shit_

  
_TommyInnit: DREMA_

  
_TommyInnit: DREAM_

  
_Tubbo_: Hey man :)_

  
_BadBoyHalo: You joined!_

  
_GeorgeNotFound: join the vc_

  
_Callahan: most of us are by tommy's house_

  
_ItsFundy: hello_

  
_TommyInnit: Dream they are abusnig me_

  
_WilburSoot: Tommy shut up_

  
_Sapnap: You started it asshole_

~

  
Suddenly the heads of the each avatar looked at the green skin slowly approaching them. "Why is he walking? He hates walking." George murmured to Sapnap.

  
"You were right. I don't have a good feeling about this." Sapnap took a breath, either an attempt for the right words or mesmerized by Dream's unnatural behavior. "George, go. I have a gut feeling that you shouldn't be here right now."

  
"What do you mean I shouldn't be here right now? You're just as guilty as me."

  
Sapnap turned his avatar to George quickly and said, "I'm not the one with only unenchanted iron pants and boots on."

  
George tensed at the statement, but obliged, scurrying off before Dream could have seen him.

  
When he made it down the nearby cliff and into a small trench to allow him to hide, he once again spoke to Sapnap. "Should we join now?"

  
"Yeah. He's obviously talking or at least listening to someone."

  
With one click, George found himself in the middle of a sentence from him dearest friend.

  
"-simple solution to this."

  
_Tommyinnit was slain by Dream_

  
_Shit_ , he said to himself, immediately texting Sapnap through the chat.

  
_You whisper to Sapnap: go back to our vc_

  
When he heard a slight beep, Sapnap immediately started talking. "Tommy deserved that. I don't think it's that big a d - oh wait, shit - George he's burning the stuff. I thought that wasn't allowed on the server?"

  
"It's not. What's he doing now?"

  
"He's looking at Fundy. Oh my god."

  
_ItsFundy was slain by Dream_

  
"Did Fundy provoke him?!" George's voice raised slightly forming a frantic squeal.

  
"No, he did nothing. And now he's running after Callahan. What do we do?"

  
"I-I don't know. Um, is he going after you?"

  
_Callahan was slain by Dream_

  
"Damn it George, he's looking at me now."

  
"Run then!"

  
"No. There's no way he'll kill me. Let me try this."

~  
 _Sapnap: join me and George's vc_

  
_Sapnap: now_

~  
"George he's still coming."

~  
 _Sapnap: dream now_

~  
"George. GEORGE HE'S KILLING ME!"

  
"Shit, ok. Just hold on, don't fight him 100 percent."

  
"Why not - oh crap. I'm at half health."

  
"Just distract him."

  
George suddenly found himself running slightly deeper in the wooded area he was surrounded by in search of a chest - any chest - that would hold the one item he needed. Then he saw one, its place irregular and out of the normal trail a player would travel on. 

  
Opening it, he groaned to himself, thinking _empty. Of course._

  
And then he found himself momentarily losing hearts, and when he turned he saw a skeleton seeking sanctuary from the sun under a nearby tree. _Arrows._

  
With a few hits with a shovel in his hotbar, the skeleton faded into nothing, dropping one single arrow. George didn't allow a moment of relief before he picked it up and sprinted back towards Sapnap. His hunger was rapidly depleting, and he had eaten all of his steak while chasing Tommy, so he had no choice but to kill a nearby pig.

  
"GEORGE, WHERE ARE YOU?" George flinched at the loudness of Sapnap's scream, and chose not to eat the pink meat located near his shovel. Instead, he now looked at the unenchanted bow located at the far right of his hotbar. 

  
He hadn't yet been able to strip it of its pure form, so there it sat - his only idea of protection or distraction - whichever would come first.

  
His heart pounded as he heard faint grunts from his friend through his headphones; the ladder squeaked as he made his way higher on the y-axis, until suddenly he stood before a fighting Sapnap and Dream.

  
Knowing he had one arrow, he readied his bow and aimed, smiling when it thankfully hit the green avatar.

  
The smile faded when Dream looked at him - watching as Sapnap sought shelter behind him - and fired an arrow directly past his face. When he suddenly found his inventory almost full of Sapnap's belongings, he ran. Back to where he came from, back off the cliff, back away from Dream.

  
His heart pounded when he hit the ground and started running. He knew of the river ahead yet he found himself running that way, anyway. 

  
He would have to think of an escape as he goes.

  
Veering away from the water, he trailed its edge, watching as his hunger sank more and more. The porkchops would soon need to be eaten, but his distance ahead of Dream wasn't much. George grimaced to himself when he heard Dream pause and eat; spite or bragging, he wasn't sure what to call it.

  
And then he found himself slightly farther away from the river as his avatar broke its sprint and bore into a walk. He had no choice but eat the raw porkchops he had, even as he noticed the arrow flung near his feet. In a full turn, he watched as Dream sprinted toward him in smooth fashion, and a part of him knew Dream was laughing at his pathetic-ness. 

  
Then an idea hit him: he was going to die, but if he made it into the river, at least his items couldn't be burned. 

The plan was short-lasted as the next thirty seconds blurred into the finality of his screen after death.

  
_GeorgeNotFound was slain by Dream_

  
**Alyssa**

  
When Dream had started his frenzy Alyssa was mining trees a hundred blocks from Tommy's tower.

  
Her inventory was full of items for her current build, and the fifteen stacks of wood had taken her an hour to get. When Dream had started his frenzy, she panicked.  
She should have just ran, hid, even, but instead she found herself running toward the main oak path flowing through the server. She needed an end chest, either to place all of her important items in or ... an extreme option.

  
After running in and out of several buildings nearby, she begrudgingly looked in Tommy's tower - knowing Dream was close - and opened it. The chest was full; she wouldn't have time to empty it and swap items. Instead, she clicked the single totem she had been given by a friend in trade for a task. As soon as she put it in her inventory, she was hit. Repeatedly.

  
As quickly as she could muster, she moved her mouse to hover over the totem, hoping to place it in the spot that would allow her enough time to run once she ran out of hearts. And then the hearts were gone; she didn't even try to fight Dream when she saw the items explode from her position through her screen. 

  
_ItsAlyssa was slain by Dream_

  
Her heart pounded in realization: _Dream has a totem of undying._

  
**BadBoyHalo**

  
There was no way he could know for certain, but a massive gut feeling told him he did.

  
He was one of the reasons for Dream's rampage. He had pushed him to come on today, even if it was only once he had asked. 

  
He also knew that he likely wasn't the only one to push Dream in the past day. 

  
A string of pity and guilt swept through Bad as he realized Tommy wasn't going to be Dream's only victim. He could be, too. It wasn't until after Sapnap had died that panic started seeping in. Suddenly, he received a private chat in the lower corner of his screen.

  
_Purpled whispers to you: Punz and I are preparing for an attack. r u in?_

  
Bad took a deep breath before responding, allowing his new gut feeling dictate his response.

  
_You whisper to Purpled: Yes._

  
He noticed Punz and Purpled emerge from the shadows, and before he knew it Purpled was passing off a shimmering diamond sword. _Unbreaking II and Sharpness II. Interesting,_ Bad thought to himself. The sword would somewhat protect him from what would no doubt be a fully netherite armored Dream. Bad _did_ only have iron armor. 

  
Then a new notification appeared in the chat.

  
_Ponk was slain by Dream_

  
Noting a nearby sign, he mined it and replaced it, typing so both Punz and Purpled could see. _We're next._ Bad could feel the tension through his screen, and though they were hurriedly preparing to fight someone who would likely demolish them in minutes, Dream was his friend. And a part of him wanted to be killed, if it somehow made Dream feel better.

  
Most were out of the public channel - including Dream and Bad - so no secret warnings would be able to take place. Only through chat, or a whisper similar to the one Bad quickly glanced at in his chat.

  
_WilburSoot whispers to you: i'm making potions. if you can escape, head to the community house._

  
His avatar stood still for only a moment of reflection before he saw the familiar green skin hurtling toward him and the others. He would have to handle Wilbur's request later. There was no escaping.

  
And just as he predicted, within those few minutes, Bad found himself as dead as the rest of the server - and a weight lifted off his shoulders.

_BadBoyHalo was slain by Dream_

  
**Wilbur**

  
He was at the Camarvan even before the commotion started.

  
Wilbur's set of tasks for the day was to prepare for the upcoming war with Dream and L'Manberg. He walked around the small lake his van was located on, talking to his chat about building a wall to keep out non-Europeans while simultaneously complaining about Tommy's lack of commitment. 

  
Even from his distance from the rest of the server, he was able to note Tommy being chased by George and Sapnap. He wondered what he had done to piss off two of the most notable people on the server, but dismissed the thought in hopes it would make him retreat to his side.

  
"Chat, what do you think about yellow and black, huh? Intimidating? Yeah, I think so, too." 

  
Wilbur begun collecting the appropriate materials - ignoring Tommy's requests to join a vc - when he saw a notification that for some reason made his breath hitch.

  
Dream has joined the game

  
Wilbur found himself in a moment of silence, glancing at the livestream with Tommy's face located on a different computer screen. "Woah, Dream is watching my stream, chat? Hey Big D, if you don't join the server you're a pussy." Tommy had just called out Dream on a livestream, and a minute later he joins? Something wasn't right. Dream wasn't technically supposed to come on today; instead, it was a day for growth and expansion for the other people of the server.

  
"Chat, are you guys connecting the dots like I am?" Wilbur looked at the influx of responses, mostly yeses and agreements. _They were also watching Tommy's stream_ , Wilbur thought to himself. 

  
He then read through the range of in-game chat notifications from several different names welcoming Dream - including Tommy - before adding: _Tommy shut up._

He followed up with a whisper to his child friend.

~  
 _You whisper to TommyInnit: come to the van, I need you_

  
_TommyInnit whispers to you: JOIN THE VC AND I WILL_

~  
And so he did, greeted indirectly with loud voices and screeches mainly in the surprise that Dream joined the call, too. Wilbur merely sat and listened.

  
"There's a simple solution to this."

  
_TommyInnit was slain by Dream_

  
Muted to the general call, he talked directly to his live stream viewers. "He deserved that, right?"

  
Before he could gather his thoughts, the next notification appeared moments later.

  
_ItsFundy was slain by Dream_

  
"See, now I know Fundy didn't do anything wrong. Dream isn't streaming, right? So there's no way to know his ... motives ... right?" Wilbur took a sip of water before continuing. "I'm going to put this van to use. Just in case."

  
When Callahan had died, he found a boost of motivation and found himself making a series of potions - splash, to be specific. "Poison, weakness, and harming," he read to his chat. He was no longer in a channel with others - only him and his chat knew what Wilbur intended to accomplish, but he made it finally clear when Alyssa was slain.

  
"Chat, we're at war."

  
He watched for a moment as the brewing stands bubbled and made sounds. His inventory was almost full, but he awaited the final colored bottles on the edge of the yellow and silver stands. He hadn't received any messages or contact from anyone on the server, though continuously glanced around looking for nearing nametags. 

  
Wilbur momentarily ventured out of the van and circled the pond; he searched for roaming spiders in hopes of collecting more eyes, though found his scavenge interrupted by a bright green entity in the distance.

  
"Fuck, chat, what do I do? What do I do? I know what I'll do."

  
_WilburSoot has left the game_

  
Wilbur tensed in his chair for a moment, silent as he scanned the severity and possible outcomes of the situation. Dream would likely either trap his spawn to kill him - taking away his potions, not that he could know that's what he possessed, wait him out, or ignore Wilbur completely. He scoffed lightly to himself, temporarily ignoring the chat's string of updates they collected through other streams and words of encouragement to rejoin and face his fate.

  
"I'm just ... going to wait a minute. Maybe he'll grow bored, right? There are still other people to murder on the server. And, look on the bright side, chat. We still have some potions so if I rejoined right now, maybe I would last longer than three seconds in a fight." Wilbur's fingers traced over his lips in contemplation, his mouse moving to allow the arrow to hover over the Dream SMP server list. 

  
After what was at least two minutes, he clicked, and found himself utterly horrified by the scene ahead of him.

  
He wasn't spawn-trapped, he wasn't being hunted, he wasn't even in a position to be harmed. Instead, he watched as his beloved van crumbled in flames - the potions with it. Wilbur said nothing for half a minute before saying, "Definitely war."

  
He didn't bother to try and revive his mobile home but instead found himself personally texting every member of the server - besides Dream. Each text were along the lines of retreat or head to the community house.

  
Wilbur made his way to the underground sewer system that made its way to the community house without detection, his inventory full with potions of the deadliest content. To his surprise, almost everyone met him at the deemed meeting spot - the nether portal - and awaited instructions. 

  
When he had passed out potions to everyone necessary, he mumbled to himself, "Where's Techno?"

  
**Technoblade**

  
The snowy biome was disintegrating beneath his avatar as he ran toward the grassy biome upholding a village ahead. 

  
The axe in his inventory was already shimmering with numerous enchantments, but he hoped for the final - though slightly unnecessary - book to complete it from the librarian he spotted ahead. He had already raided two villages and found himself unable to find a librarian able to present a Mending book yet. 

  
His axe did already have Sharpness V, Smite, and Unbreaking III, he might as well add the last overpowering property. 

  
Techno had been playing for a few hours already, joining around the same time as everyone else. So when it took a mere ten minutes for the pink, shimmering book to appear in the list of possible trades, he couldn't help but squeal slightly to his stream.

  
"Finally. I am a God."

  
And it was when he placed the anvil to ensure the finality of his task when a notification appeared.

  
_TommyInnit was slain by Dream_

  
He huffed a casual laugh, then said, "He probably deserved it, though I wouldn't be surprised if Dream just murdered him for show."

  
The familiar loud noise of the anvil's completion sauntered through Techno's speakers, and he smiled momentarily as he clicked into third-person view and held his axe - proudly showing it off. "Maybe I'll help Dream kill Tommy again."

  
_ItsFundy was slain by Dream_

  
"Or I guess Fundy." He glanced to his string of chats and noted the comments stating how Fundy didn't provoke anyone. He also noted the forming theories along the lines of how Dream would soon kill everyone near him. "No, guys. Dream's not going to murder the whole server."

  
_Callahan was slain by Dream_

  
Techno loosed a breath he hadn't realized he was holding at the most recent notification, this time not bothering to look at his chat. Instead, he started sprinting in the direction of the heart of the server, only allowing the words, "I know, I know. Once is funny, two's a coincidence, but three, well, that's what we're heading back for."

  
~~

  
After several deaths and fifteen minutes of journeying, he received a whisper from a familiar name.

  
_WilburSoot whispers to you: dream's on a rampage if you couldn't tell. wherever you are, come to the community house. be ready to fight._

  
"Looks like my comment about Dream murdering the whole server didn't age well," he said sarcastically, hoping to lighten the mood more of himself than the thousands watching him. When he finally saw the familiar sight of the nether portal, a montage of avatars seemed to emerge from the shadows - Wilbur on the front line.

  
Techno joined the vc with only Wilbur, and he was met with a variety of potions filling up his hotbar and the familiar, accented voice through his headphones.

"Dream will end up coming here eventually, probably for you, so take these, and when we see him we'll all throw our potions and he'll be just as dead as the rest of us."

  
"Why is he killing everyone? And why would he hunt after me, I haven't been at this part of the server in days?"

  
"If we knew the answer to that, we would talk him down. He even killed George and Sapnap, and let me tell you they're pissed."

  
"Ok, well, I don't need these cheat weapons, I have my own." Techno dramatically flashed his axe and he heard a light-hearted chuckle on the other end of the line. "And there's no 'we.' He tried killing you, right? But you left, and I assume he left you alone."

  
"No actually. He burned down my fucking van."

  
"Well, sorry about that. But I'm the last one he hasn't killed, which makes it my turn to fight." Techno contemplated his words momentarily before continuing. "If it makes you feel better, you can hover up here to intimidate him if he tries to escape or something but this 'rampage' as you so called it - ends now."

  
"You're sure?"

  
"He's just a man behind a screen. He's dead, I swear it." When Techno was about to leave the call, he heard one last remark from his friend.

  
"In case you didn't know, he's burning everyone's stuff." He knowingly looked to his axe understanding the relay of information, but found himself smiling before responding.

  
"That just makes it more fun."

  
~~

  
He stood on the wooden pathway trickling out from various sides of the community house, but specifically the one opposite to the green avatar coated in netherite armor and - no doubt - weapons. 

  
His heart was pounding, but not out of fear or nervousness - but out of excitement. 

  
His eyes then drifted to a chat notification on his screen.

  
_Dream: Technoblade! my friend. how are you?_

  
_Interesting_. Non-hostile, yet hostile in every way. Though, he hadn't yet sent anything publicly in the pre-ness of anyone else's deaths. But why was he an exception? Because it was an intimidation tactic knowing this was a fight he may not win?

  
He watched as Dream approached him, waiting for him to make a move. _Is he teasing me? What are you doing?_ He whispered softly to himself so that his chat likely didn't hear. He didn't move his avatar though noted the circle of nametags watching as the two looked at each other in a mix of determination and readiness. He then allowed a glance up to his right - where he knew Wilbur was located - and shook his head, the assurance he didn't need help. 

  
The moon slowly appeared in the sky, the dimness of the world now becoming vibrant through the light of the stars.

  
_I'm not going to play games, blob man._ Now out of patience, he revealed the axe he had crafted not long ago. He wondered if Dream was slightly intimidated by the rapidity of the reveal of his sword. 

  
_Dream: game on_

  
Game on indeed.

  
~~

  
The beginning of the fight almost felt light-hearted, as though they both weren't giving full effort but enough that those watching would be in awe of their efforts.  
It was, in fact, light-hearted on Techno's behalf. He had been cruising with Dream's fighting methods, memorizing them and finding weak spots that he would use in the future.

  
Though it hadn't always been beneficial, he had only fought with his axe as Dream revealed every weapon possible in his inventory. The variety of attacks had been consequential at times for Techno, but the damage had hardly caused a tense of his muscles. An enchanted bow sat in his hotbar - one he had not yet used - in waiting for Dream to allow himself vulnerability that his axe would become unworthy of use. 

  
When Dream jumped from the roof of the brick house they had been fighting in for the past several minutes, Techno couldn't help himself as he shot an arrow toward the free-falling avatar. He didn't miss, watching as a flash of red indicating the loss of hearts surrounded Dream on the floor.

  
He knew Dream wouldn't again lead him to the roof or in the house; it would leave him vulnerable now that Dream knew he possessed a bow. Instead, he dove in the water realizing that the remainder of their fight would likely be underwater.

  
And it did, and as they fought for even longer, Techno realized Dream would be dead within seconds.

  
Head-to-head, they swam toward each other in the water - axe versus axe - and ignored as his keyboard seemed to be taking more hits than Dream, the rapidity of the clicks likely loud enough to hear on his stream.

  
When he knew it was one hit away before he won the fight, he suddenly received a frantic notification in his chat box.

  
_ItsAlyssa whispers to you: I FORGOT TO TELL U HE HSA A TOTEM_

  
"Oh jesus chr-" Even in the quick motion it took for Dream to equip it, he saw the yellow item appear in his other hand, his face in complete disarray, and he had no other option than to retreat. 

  
Some part of him throughout the entire battle had told him Dream would eventually back off in some way or another, so much so that he hadn't bothered for sharper hits with his axe that would've killed Dream in the first two minutes. So much so that he didn't allow potions. So much so, that if he would have know that Dream had the totem, he would've gone full-out and the fight would have been even.

  
So now he ran, unable to talk to his chat or form words in his head. For once, he was blank. He was going to lose the fight.

  
Two hearts.

  
As he swam away, he was unable to realize the ender pearl flung just ahead of him, a squeal releasing from him as he swung at the avatar now ahead of him in the water but took the final blows from Dream's axe.

  
_Technoblade was slain by Dream_

  
He squeezed his mouse, whether out of rage at Dream or himself, and ignored as parts of the metal fell from the small object. He only watched as the screen displaying his death showed Dream burning his items - axe included - sitting in pure silence.

  
Though he likely shouldn't have, he clicked into the public channel honing each name currently on the server - Dream included - and ignored as his mouse broke completely when he heard Dream say, "My fellow members of the SMP, allow this to be life lesson for you all. One, to never think that any of you could ever beat me. Techno, luck of the draw. Sucks to suck. Anyway-" 

  
The rest of Dream's phrase blurred as he chucked a water bottle across his room and turned off his computer.

  
**Sapnap**

  
He couldn't seem to pull his glare away from the most recent notifications in the chat.

~  
 _Technoblade was slain by Dream_

  
_Dream has left the game_

~

  
He was completely and utterly pissed. Dream had completely lost it, and the silence of the vc that housed only him and George seemed to indicate his friend was pissed, too.

  
"What do we do now?" The timid but somewhat stern voice coming through Sapnap's mic almost made him jump as it brought him out of his thoughts. He finally loosed a sigh, glancing to his phone that sat dark at the edge of his desk. An idea had formed, one that would likely be a bad idea or the best one, but either way it was a plan.

  
"I have an idea."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if one of the character's mannerisms in this/past/future chapters isn't typical than in real life
> 
> hearts


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't need to put on a mask all the time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tw
> 
> \- back to dream's pov

  
_Twelve hours post-breakdown_

  
The moonlight made its way through the window in Dream's bedroom, the only source of light lurking at any point in his house.

  
The clock had recently chimed midnight, yet he was wide awake despite his eyelids feeling heavy. He was now empty of tears - as he had been for hours - and his body felt limp as he laid on his back atop his bed simply staring at the ceiling.

  
The bundle of emotions he had released earlier had helped, whether it was his breakdown on or off the screen. Now, he felt empty. The initial shock of anger and sadness he had been consumed by the first few hours of Speckles' death was now void of feeling. Though he was still sad, he could no longer show it. It was how he should feel; he couldn't be consumed with rage and grief forever.

  
His phone was a contribution to the darkness of his surroundings as he had chosen to shut it off hours ago. He wondered what his notifications would consist of. Anger from his friends? His followers? Questions and confusion and concern. There was no way to predict how his scene could be portrayed. Maybe people would be genuinely amused and full of adrenaline, that the randomness and unexpectant rampage could be taken as a new dawn for the SMP. 

  
Either way, he was in a rough position, and he couldn't yet find a way to bail himself out.

  
The multi-colored comforter had grown warm to the touch, a mixture of the high Floridian temperatures and Dream's body soaking up the chill of fresh sheets.  
It had brought him to an uncomfortable state - the bed no longer did it for him. Maybe it was his way to depend on something the way he depended on Speckles, or maybe he willed it to be his distraction or sorts for now. His unending sobs had been his distraction for so long he wasn't sure how to go about the rest of the day. Or night, for this matter.

  
He couldn't sleep, he couldn't talk to anyone - especially Sapnap. Or George. And most of all, he couldn't savor the isolation he had once sought out so entirely. His house was his isolation, more so now that his sweet kitten was no longer with him. 

  
His eyes flicked toward the glass panes hazily tinted to his left. 

  
He noticed the dim houses with occasional faint lights of what he was sure were teenagers staying up past their bed time or adults basking in the loneliness of the night - likely their only break for a while. 

  
He noticed the trees softly flailing in the breeze, and a couple leaves pushed down the gray road flowing through the neighborhood.

  
He noticed the series of white-picket fences outlining some of the houses, while brick or cobblestone walls surrounded others. It was ... peaceful. Enchanting. And he wished - hoped - Speckles, too, was admiring the loveliness of the night.

  
Suddenly, Dream found a boost of energy, or rather motivation, and begun walking to his kitchen. He had changed clothes at some point, not that they were so different than previously. A simple black hoodie from his merch and loose, dark grey sweatpants covered his body. His flinched as his bare feet hit the unusually cold tile, finding to his convenience a pair of clean, fuzzy llama socks fresh in a hamper he hadn't bothered to dump.

  
He focused on the trail ahead of him, the wooden door his final destination. Grabbing his keys, he opened the door, shut it somewhat dramatically, and headed for his car. The ignition hummed as the key fell into place, the radio near silent as the song played on a low level. 

  
Dream turned down the music to nothing, finally basking in the silence and watching as his headlights directed his drive for the next hour.

  
~~

  
His car engine, thankfully, made little noise when he pulled into the driveway of his childhood home. There were three other cars parked there already - one he did not recognize, and the other two his parents'. 

  
Leafy vines hung from various parts of the shingled roof, not for lack of cleaning but instead for decoration. Flowers were budding in the bushes surrounding the rim of the somewhat large house, and the dark brick blended with the darkness of the sky. It was almost two a.m., an unusual time for activity in the neighborhood and he wondered if he would be intercepted by nighttime patrol by the time he made it to the door.

  
He didn't, instead finding himself standing frozen in the stretched porchway with only a dim light allowing him to read the small sign on the door stating welcome.   
Dream closed his eyes a moment, a deep breath puffing out his chest as he attempted to ignore the vulnerability he now felt. The adrenaline rush was gone, and his body seemed to ache in need for sleep, yet he still wasn't tired. He doubted he could sleep, anyway. It seemed to be something people used to either escape their burdens or relish in the lack of them. He wouldn't be escaping or relishing, instead allowing his body one of the only things it needed to keep him standing.

  
His legs wobbled at the thought. His childhood home. His parents were in there, his _sister_ was in there. And with a knock on the glossed door, he would be met with one of their faces, and taking the first step out of the bubble he had trapped himself in for the past day and a half.

  
Finally, he knocked. The doorbell seemed too ominous, and he worried his temporary lack of cop interception would be ruined with an inevitable 911 call. Not that the neighborhood was bad, but a doorbell ringing in the middle of the night would likely not be favorable, despite. _Knocking is probably sketchy too, right? Maybe it's unlocked._ He rattled the door temporarily, and grimaced at the stiffness of it. 

  
He then heard a voice on the other side of the door.

  
"I don't know who you are, but I have scissors and I'll hack you into pieces with them." 

  
Dream furrowed his brows momentarily at the familiar yet unfamiliar voice, then chuckled lightly before knocking again.

  
"If a gun is going to pointed at me when I look through the eye hole, I am aware my scissors will be useless, but I'm looking anyway." The voice was wary yet bold, quickly turning to confusion when Dream sensed she had indeed looked through the circle in the center of the door. "What the hell-"

  
Not his mother, not his father, not even his sister. Instead, "Hey Mars."

  
Marceline shook her head in confusion, gripping slightly on the door she had flung open. "Clay? What are you doing here?"

  
"I live here."

  
"No you don't. You lost that title when you moved out." 

  
"I doubt that's what my parents will say. Besides, you don't, either."

  
"You know, you're being awfully snarky to the person holding the door."

  
"You're half my height. If I was someone trying to rob you, I wouldn't even need a gun to get past you."

  
"You're only eight inches taller than me, ass-hole."

  
"Eight and a half."

  
Marceline rolled her eyes before smiling, releasing the door and swiftly moving forward to hug Dream. A tight, unyielding hug that Dream savored as he rested his chin on the top of her head. Suddenly, Marceline pulled away and punched his shoulder, it hurting more than he would like to admit.

  
"Ow, what was that for?" He rubbed his shoulder as he spoke, a discerning look on his face.

  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" When he perked an eyebrow in response obviously out of confusion, she continued. "What the hell was that today? Or yesterday, whatever. But it wasn't scripted! You weren't even supposed to be online, I thought it was one of your days off or something?" 

  
_Right_ , he grimaced to himself, _there are only two other people in the world who know about my isolation days._ _Mars and_ \- his thought was interrupted by a tumbling coming from deeper in the house, and he met the eyes of his sister. _And Drista_.

  
Drista had in separate hands a butter knife and a fork, but dropped them immediately when she realized who was at the door. Before he knew it, he found himself slightly unbalanced as Drista leaped into his arms for a hug similar to the one Marceline gave him, though slightly more caring and absolute.

  
When she finally let go, Dream found his opposite shoulder being punched, and this time he let out a small yelp.

  
"Ow!"

  
"What the hell is wrong with you!" Drista crossed her arms and had a scolding yet concerned look on her face.

  
"What, do you guys share one braincell? God." He crossed his arms as he rubbed both shoulders at the same time. "I'm just coming inside now. Obviously this porch is only going to bring me temporary niceness then pain."

  
Without allowing them to speak further, he pushed past the two teenage girls, kicked off his shoes, and ushered up the staircase slightly to the left of the door, knowing that he was being followed.

  
When he reached halfway up the staircase and found the second floor, he said slightly irritated, "I know why Drista is here but why are you here, Mars?" 

  
"In case of random wierdos knocking on the door in the middle of the night, someone has to get the door." The second half of her sentence was mostly directed to Drista, of which he saw his sister stick her tongue out in response.

  
"Listen, _Mars_ , I was in a dead sleep when I heard the knocking and by the time my eyes were open, you had scissors in your hand. I'm pretty sure I wasn't needed."

  
"No, _he_ is the only one who can call me that, though I wish he would stop because I'm not five anymore." 

  
Dream made sure his grin was noticeable when he half-turned. He then was met with a somewhat boisterous laugh from the red-headed girl who wasn't his sister.

  
"Oh my god, I just saw this. You have on llama socks? Maybe you're the five year old." Drista then joined in on the laughing, and he only grunted knowing that the echo of their cackles would likely wake his parents and he would have to deal with four people in the dead of night, though a part of him wasn't complaining. 

  
He hadn't smiled in quite a while, and in the ten minutes he had been in this house he had found himself smiling more than once. Though, they could have been defined as empty smiles. Yes, he was happy to see - what he wouldn't admit to anyone else - his two best friends, or rather confidants, but he wasn't what the dictionary would define to be happy. 

  
He wasn't head over heels content in the moment.

  
He wasn't rubbing his jaw as his cheeks hurt from a beaming smile that had been plastered on his face.

  
He wasn't temporarily burden-free as he basked in the solemnity in conversing with someone or something else. 

  
He wasn't happy. And he wasn't sure when he would be again.

  
"Why did you knock? That's real serial killer behavior," Drista said as she trailed him closely.

  
"I'm pretty sure if I was a serial killer I definitely wouldn't have knocked." Drista hummed in response, Dream now entering his childhood room of silver and tan walls. His bed had a canopy, though it drooped so low it no longer looked that way.

  
He didn't necessarily have toys, but instead action figures and small mannequins of his favorite characters from movies, video games, or books huddled in the far corner of his room. The ceiling was so high he couldn't even touch it with his height, and he squinted as he turned on small led lights sprinkled around the room.   
Drista and Marceline plopped on his bed, obviously awaiting for him to either explain himself or to give him a stern talk. He did his best to ignore their presence, scavenging through a drawer to find a blanket and sitting on bean-bag chair opposite his bed. Sighing, he gave them what they wanted.

  
"It's 2 a.m. so I'll just give you an overview of what happened." They both shifted on the bed, now lying on their stomachs with their hands on their chins. "It was supposed to be my day off - as you know - and then people kept pestering me to come on even when I said no and then I killed everyone. And that's about it."

  
Marceline gave a distasteful look while Drista perked a brow.

"Are you talking about Tommy's comment he made on stream? That's what made you kill everyone?" Marceline said questionably.

  
"Yes," he said cautiously. He didn't know why he wouldn't just tell them the truth. They wouldn't judge ... entirely. While they were his confidants and best friends, they were also his managers of some sort. They helped script the server, relay information to people, schedule events and streams. Though Marceline was more of a ghost manager - as no one knew anything about her other than her existence - he wasn't sure where he would be without them. They had been with him from the start of his success, and he was grateful. So grateful that he sighed and explained entirely.

  
"No. Two days ago, Speckles died. Unexpectedly, of course." He picked at his fingernails, unable to look the girls in the eyes. "It was actually my fault. I was tired, I left the door open, and the next thing I knew I was running outside only to find she was hit by a car." 

  
The two obviously noticed the faint hurt in his eyes - despite him trying to hide it - and both made their way to his sides, silently waiting for him to finish.

  
"And then I was just ... consumed by emotions I didn't know how to handle, and the day after - yesterday - was supposed to be my day off. The day I was supposed to learn to handle those emotions but I was just being, like, pressured - by everyone, might I add - to come on the server. It normally wouldn't bother me, but I had a pretty busy week and-"

  
"Your cat died," Drista said softly.

  
"Yeah. And I just broke." He looked to Marceline. "Tommy _was_ what pushed me over the edge, but I probably would have broke either way. My anger was just building up and whether it would have been on or off screen ... something was going to be broken. I just didn't realize it would be the server that I chose." He rested his back to the wall and stared at the ceiling as Drista looked to the ground and Marceline rested her chin on her knee.

  
"It's not as bad as you think, actually. I mean, a _lot_ of the other creators are pissed but mostly because they didn't know what was happening. The community is pretty split at the moment, mainly because of the raw reactions they saw on everyone's streams. Normally it's pretty easy to recognize what exactly is scripted and what's not, but you burning everyone's items when it's a pretty knowledgeable rule that that's not allowed made it easier for people to chose sides." Drista waited for him to respond, wondering if he would loose a sigh of relief at the newfound information. He didn't. 

  
"And what sides are those?"

  
"Either yours," Marceline chimed in, "which is basically saying that your breakdown was just part of the plot and it shouldn't be picked apart. Or the antis - or so they call themselves."

  
"But antis already exist, why are they so special now?" He shifted in the chair, wrapping his blanket tighter around his body.

  
"Well, they're ... different, I guess. They're doing everything possible to understand the situation, manipulate it against you more than it already is, and ruin you, I guess. A couple of the creators you killed, like Bad and Tubbo, have already made public announcements addressing the situation. The antis have been hoarding the comments saying you finally 'broke', which isn't wrong, I guess, but are saying you should lose your platform and stuff like that. You saying 'don't bug me on my day off' kind of ignited the theories."

  
"What, me murdering the entire server and burning their items didn't hone that position by itself?"

  
"No, actually. You killing people is pretty typical, but killing George, Sapnap, _and_ Technoblade, then leaving with that bang of a statement is just hard to misinterpret." Marceline yawned after the statement, leaning against Dream's legs as she stared at a wall. There was a moment of silence as it seemed the trio attempted to gather their thoughts, but Dream broke it soon after.

  
"What did they say?" 

  
"Who?" Marceline's tone hinted she knew the answer, but wanted assurance that he actually wanted to know.

  
"Bad. And Tubbo."

  
"Do you want to read the tweets?" She immediately brought out her phone, but he brushed it off.

  
"I'm not ready for anything social media related, yet. Just read them to me." Marceline gave him a side-eyed glare, but complied.

  
"Tubbo said, _hi guys. you can calm down, everything dream does has a purpose :D_. And Bad said, _everything's ok!_ Not detailed, no sides were really displayed and it honestly seemed to calm everyone down a bit. You aren't taking up the first fifteen slots of trending anymore, if that makes you feel better?"

  
"It doesn't." 

  
Marceline merely hummed in response.

  
"So did you only come here for us to update you about this mess?" Drista's tone hinted that she was upset, her once visible concern fading into nothing.

  
Dream ruffled his fingers playfully through the golden locks so similar to his, his sister batting his hand away in response. "Aw, it must be true then. You did miss me."

  
"I did not. I just don't want you to waste our time." Drista looked away and crossed her arms dramatically, but Dream knew the right words would bring her out of her mood.

  
"You both filling me in - even though it's what I _pay_ you for - is not the only reason I'm here, smart-ass. My house just felt ... lonely, I guess. And you two were the closest options to not be that way." Suddenly Dream's sweatshirt string became particularly interesting as he now twisted it around his fingers shyly. 

  
Marceline smiled, burrowing slightly more in between the side of Dream's leg and the bean-bag chair. Drista merely looked to the ground, a hint of sincerity plastered to her face. 

  
When the burden of their silence became too much to bear, Dream opted to lighten the mood. "So who's car is outside? I don't recognize it."

  
Marceline huffed and quickly rose from his side. "You really don't know?"

  
"Obviously not." Dream perked a brow as he scanned her sarcastically furious eyes.

  
"Well you know how I turned sixteen last month, right?"

  
"Right."

  
"And how I couldn't get my license until three months after, right?"

  
"Wait, did you drive illegally here?"

  
"No, idiot. The DMV screwed up the date by two months somehow so I now I have my first step to freedom." She gave a quirky smile as her arms loosely crossed across her ribcage, her back now leaning against the bed.

  
"A car is what you call freedom? Seems pretty pathetic to me."

  
"And why's that?"

  
"Because one, freedom sucks, and two, it's also the first step to reality, and let me tell you, reality isn't fun."

  
Marceline's response was more-so under her breath, but he still heard it. "You seem to love your freedom, otherwise you would visit more than once a month." 

  
He pursed his lips in contemplation, grunting as he rose from the chair and made a move to her side, strangling her in a hug. He had been told he gave the best hugs, and he depended on that information in the moment. "I'll visit more if it will make you feel better."

  
Drista joined the hug, the three now confined by Dream's long arms and the temporary warmth of their huddled bodies. He found it soothing as he savored the safeness he felt and supportiveness he would always be assured to have from the two girls. A part of him wanted to cry, but not sobs like he had been consumed by not long ago. 

  
A cry that would ease his nerves, a cry that would show just how vulnerable he had felt since he first looked at the door, a cry that would swallow his surroundings whole, and a cry in the arms of his sister and friend. 

  
But finding himself in the same situation he had been in not long ago, no tears came, and he was stoic-feeling and absent-minded, plastered with a fake smile he knew he didn't need to give. Because if he found himself breaking in front of them, he would be met with open arms and two shoulders to cry on.  
And he wasn't sure he was ready for that.

  
"Alright, alright. Enough with this wishy-washy emotional shit. It's past both of your bedtimes, and I'm surprised mom and dad haven't come in here yet to chew your asses." Dream released the two, instinctively covering his shoulders in protection. 

  
Drista merely rolled her eyes while Marceline punched him in the stomach and ran out of the room, yelling a _night_ over her shoulder.

  
He waited for Drista to follow suit, but instead she remained sitting at his side, as though finding the right words to say. Then she found them.

  
"I've known you a long time, Clay, and I've never seen you as broken as you are right now. That pesky little smile you keep giving us is painful and I just ... I hope you know that I'm here for you. In a way that Marcy or any of your other friends or even mom and dad couldn't be. If you need a shoulder to cry on, its yours." Drista rubbed a thumb over his shoulder, a faint, caring smile on her lips.

  
Dream almost found a tear welling in his eye, but he instead pulled her in for a shorter, but more passionate, hug. Pulling away, he kissed the top of her head and Drista stood up to follow Marceline.

  
With one last remark, she braced a hand on the doorframe and looked him in the eyes - tears of her own welling but not the sadness Dream felt, but rather tears of worry. "You don't need to put on a mask all the time."

  
Then she left.

  
~~

  
The morning sun was so bright that even though Dream had watched it rise from the start, his eyes were unable to adjust.

  
Two days he had yet to sleep, and it had started taking its toll as he trudged down the staircase with the same llama socks and clothing from the night. He likely wouldn't fit in any of his old clothes in the house, anyway.

  
When the staircase finally allowed Dream vision of the first floor, he was met with the eyes of his mother cooking in the kitchen, a large smile on her face. 

  
"Clay, honey, I made your favorites! Most everything is ready, just grab a plate and help yourself." Her boisterous voice - similar to Dream's - echoed through the openness of the room. 

  
"Hey, mom," he said confusedly, "you knew I was here?" 

  
Suddenly her smile drooped slightly, now a mixture of a reassurance and ambiguity. "Yeah," she said quickly, not caring to elaborate but Dream had a feeling he knew, anyway.

  
"You heard me last night." 

  
Her eyes darted up quickly then back down as she placed a spatula into a frying pan homing some sort of bacon. Instead of talking, she moved swiftly toward his position now off the staircase and pulled him into a hug - something that obviously ran in the family.

  
Slightly muffled, she said, "I did. And I'm sorry."

  
He chuckled softly in an attempt to rid the tender mood that had already taken up the morning immediately. "So sorry you made," he sniffed the air, "cinnamon toast? I haven't had that since I was like, ten."

  
After what seemed like minutes she finally pulled away, guiding him toward a high chair in the kitchen. "Figured you needed the works. So eat up." Her soft smile once again returned, and he released a sigh as he piled a batch of eggs onto his plate.

  
As he took a bite, he noticed a sluggish Marceline trailing toward the seat next to him. He chuckled before greeting her. "If you would have left me alone last night you could have slept, Mars."

  
Her eyes darted to him before she rubbed them. "Too early, Clay, too early." He only hummed in response.

  
Then the next teenage girl walked down the stairs, a hoodie from his merch that was obviously too big sagging to her knees and the hood over her eyes. Her phone was in her hand, on, but she wasn't looking at it. Her socks drug across the carpet, then the shiny wood occupying the kitchen floor. 

  
"Wow, no one's a morning person, I guess." Dream bit down on piece of pancake as he looked around the room. "Where's dad?"

  
"Even less of a morning person than them, apparently. I'm not sure he's even gotten out of bed," his mom said casually. He envied her bright eyes as she swirled the bacon in the pan.

  
"And I still would be if _he_ wasn't here." Dream's dad flung his chin in his direction while being the fourth person to drag their feet to the kitchen in the past five minutes. He had on only a shirt and boxers, not bothering for more since Marceline practically lived at their house. Dream's parents were practically her parents; supposedly hers were not the best. Not abusive, but not people she tended to want to be around.

  
Dream didn't always like Marceline. When he still lived at his parent's house, she came into their lives when he was around twelve, marking Marceline's and Drista's friendship at almost ten years. Having a younger sibling and her bold, quirky friend made his teenage years feel like a blur. It wasn't until she had found out about Dream's online career when they became particularly close. 

  
His dad made his way to Dream, patting him on the shoulder before plopping on the end chair to his right. "How long are you staying, son?"

  
Suddenly Drista's fork dropped and a bright smile lit across her face as she looked to her phone, the first time since she had sat down. 

  
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dream blurted, almost smirking in realization of the redundancy of the question though receiving a side-eyed glance from his mother, though he knew she was also thinking the same question. 

  
"Oh, sorry. Just received some good news, I guess." She looked to their dad, placing her phone face-first onto the marble counter. "Not long. He has some ... cleaning up to do."

  
"I do?" His eyebrow perked at the confusion in his voice.

  
"Yes, you do." Drista attempted to give Dream a not-so-subtle 'just go with it' look, but he wasn't sure if he should.

  
"Yeah ... I guess I do," he said, not pulling his eyes from Drista's.

  
"Ok well, even if it's just for the day, I'm going to take advantage of every minute I have with you. Unless you want the day off, which is fine. I can make popcorn and we can watch a movie?" His mother seemed eager to please, but he only smiled reassuringly.

  
"Whatever you want is fine, mom."

  
Her smile now beamed.

  
~~

  
He did, in fact, stay the day, and he hadn't been so productive in a while.

  
Since ... everything, at least.

  
Drista and Marceline hadn't left his sides, while his mother kept a slight distance but was at his every call, though he didn't abuse it. 

  
The sun was now fading, though the time wasn't yet late. He hadn't brought anything besides himself and the clothes he was wearing, yet found himself with a bag of random groceries and a couple items someone had found worthy of him taking. Books and such, a silent hint to not spend his time doing nothing.

  
"Call whenever you want, text whenever you want, at least. And take care of yourself. I know it's a rough time right now, but it'll get better." His mother hugged him tighter than usual, a small squeak coming from his throat at the loss of oxygen through his lungs.

  
"I will, mom."

  
He then looked to his dad. No words, but instead they shoulder bumped, something they had done since he was a toddler.

  
Then he was gathered into his next hug, tight but savoring, at least on Marceline's end. Her arms wrapped around his upper back as she buried her head in his chest. "I'll think about texting you."

  
She pulled away in slight disgust, punching the same shoulder she had the night before. Instead of an ow, he only laughed. She rolled her eyes as she retreated somewhat to the porch. Last was Drista, and she looked like she had a lot to say.

  
"Hey guys, can you leave us alone for a minute?" The others obliged, scurrying off back into the house leaving Dream and Drista standing just outside his car door. "What's the talk going to be, now?" 

  
She rolled her eyes, the green and golden-flecks precisely the same as his reflecting in the last of the sunlight. She then sighed. "I want you to take a week. No social media, no video games, nothing. I know it's risky, but you need it right now. A break - go do what you want, or mourn, or bury yourself in your room or punch a hole in your wall. I don't care, but take this week getting it all out, because I have a feeling you'll feel a lot better once you unload at least a ton of the burdens on your back."

  
"Why a week?"

  
"It just ... seems like a good time frame. A lot can happen in a week."

  
"Hm. I suppose."

  
"And don't worry, any internet association that absolutely needs to be handled can be done by me and Marcy."

  
"Fine, but don't put any words out there on my behalf. I have a feeling that when I emerge from the shadows, a tweet won't fix anything."

  
"Then how exactly am I supposed to calm down the internet?"

  
"You'll think of something." 

  
"Fine." He pulled her into a hug, his head towering above hers. 

  
"And take a shower, you stink." She waved her hand by her nose for dramatic effect, which it was now Dream's turn to roll his eyes. When he turned to walk away, she left one last remark.

  
"And Clay? No. Internet."

  
He gave a half-smile, as though it was almost clicking what a week without internet would do. But he found himself agreeing, stating, "No internet."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tysm for the kudos! u guys r amazing, hope you keep enjoying the story :)
> 
> hearts


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But where his reality stood, was likely a reason he couldn't sleep, anyway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tw

  
_Five days post-breakdown - three days into isolation week_

  
The strings on Dream's guitar were sour as he struck a particularly rough note.

  
Three days into his week of self-reflection and partial isolation, and his productiveness had peaked; so now, he strums his guitar in hopes of crafting some sort of delicate noise that would soon turn into a song.

  
His fingers brushed a certain chord, and he hummed to himself:

  
_People change like the tides by the ocean_

  
_I think, or am I mistaken?_

  
He punched the hard ground he sat on, drowning in distaste of his current lack of creativeness. _God, hours I've been working on this song and all I can think of is the word 'mistaken'?_ His mind scurried with synonyms for the out-of-sync word he sang, but the fog of his exhaustion balanced out his attempt at his song's fluidity.

  
He had eventually fallen asleep the night he arrived home from his parent's house, though when three hours had rapidly flown by, he awoke to twisted and ruffled sheets, drenched in sweat and his body uncomfortable in any position he laid in. The sequence of events had been recurring, as the next two nights had consisted of the same, deadly awakening that brought Dream right back to reality.

  
But where his reality stood, was likely a reason he couldn't sleep, anyway.

  
He had combed over the possible situations in his head: Twitter could still be succumbed to his outrage, though maybe it had become a circumstance of the past and people moved on. Maybe the community is confused and worried at his complete and utter lack of confrontation since, though maybe they understood there was stuff he had to handle, himself. 

  
But it was selfish, he knew, to not make some sort of statement, at least stating he was alright, though with the faint, dark bags forming under his eyes and the red strains near his pupils could make it easy to differ. 

  
Since he arrived back, he had done his best to keep busy. 

  
His sadness over Speckles was gradually subsiding, a simple hollow feeling in his chest sometimes the only recognition he could give to his current feelings. But it had to be normal, and moving on was inevitable.

  
And at some point, he would have to confront the community.

  
He wondered if Drista and Marceline had gone against his wishes and made a statement for him, and some deep feeling hoped they did. But he wasn't at liberty to check, and he had four days until his silent reign on all internet platforms would have to concede.

  
Resting his guitar against the wall he laid back upon, Dream grunted as he rose to his feet, his legs wobbling at the numbness they had been transitioning to over the hours.

  
He admired the cleanliness of the wood his socks slid upon, one of the measly tasks he had taken upon himself in an attempt to keep busy. It had happened the first night he was back; when he had awoken from his bed in a frenzied trance, a wander to the kitchen allowed the moonlight to show dust particles spread all across his floors. In a mere three hours, all tiled or wooden grounds in his house had been swept, scrubbed, and dried clean, the moonlight now only able to subject its shininess at night.

  
The sun gradually faded through an opposite window, a new trance beginning to encapsulate Dream's attention.

  
He had brought it upon himself to admire the sun rising and setting each morning and night, hopefully allowing the graces of a new section of each day give him joy that it was one section closer to the end of his week of isolation or the upbringing of his new era of productiveness. He wasn't sure which.

  
As he slid open his glass door to reach his porch, his t-shirt slightly ruffled in the breeze and his hair flew in separate directions. The golden tint of his locks almost matched the colorful exit of the sun, and he was sure there was a sparkle in his eyes from the faint trace of stars in the distance. Floridian skies were particularly beautiful, but especially at night as the glimmer from the ocean made him squint more fiercely than in the morning.

  
He sat in the tanned pine body length chair, his legs stretching out past the entirety of seat. His head casually rested back as he admired the sun for the last time, and hoped the night sky would bring him the fullness of a night of rest.

  
~~

  
_Nine days post-breakdown - seven days into isolation week_

  
The trickle of light rain seeped over the covering of his porch, though the sun dusted away the clouds typical of a rainy day.

  
Dream's back rested against a wall of his house, his hand stretching to catch the pure droplets falling from the sky. The sun was now high enough to be considered past sunrise, though it was still morning. Around nine thirty, to be exact.

  
Sleep had not been kind to him, and as his head rested back against the slightly bumpy exterior, he closed his eyes in hopes that his exhaustion would finally get the best of him. He had been asleep merely two hours earlier, almost missing the sunrise before the light trickled in through a window directly where he was asleep on the couch. 

  
He wondered how long he would've slept had his newfound desire to watch the sun go about its day not interfered.

  
And a few hours was all he slept, anyway. He was sure he could fall asleep on the concrete patio, with his back directly upright and to the faint sounds of the last neighbors scurrying off to work or the birds singing with the rain. He deserved - he needed - sleep. 

  
He spent the next thirty minutes fading in and out of fake slumber and watching small clouds appear and evaporate in the sky. Then he noticed the small, plain area where he had buried Speckles over a week ago.

  
Grass was starting to seep through the soil, and it was no longer so obvious in the yard. But he wanted it to be obvious, and he wanted to decorate it with extravagant colored flowers and a maybe a small rock he would engrave with her name. 

  
So he finally sat up, and he swiftly reentered his house. His back and limbs took no time readjusting to the proper position, his frequent time on the floor lately making his body accustomed to the uncomfortable action. 

  
He wandered to his kitchen, scanning through his thoughts in hopes he wouldn't have to run to the store for any objects necessary. Then he remembered the small box of party items, from plastic streamers to cone-shaped hats, and he hoped it would be enough. Sure enough, it was. 

  
The small plastic box on the top shelf provided small, plastic-y flowers he had used one time for Drista's birthday party. He wasn't even sure why he still had them, or why he had a "party box" anyway. But nevertheless he was grateful, carrying the box with in one arm back to his yard. 

  
But not before passing his phone.

  
It was the morning of the seventh day, and Drista had told him to take seven days to himself. But did that include the entirety of seven, or was it he had he been granted freedom already, and he could finally find a way back into his internet persona?

  
He twirled the dark object with his finger, its case gliding around the table it sat upon. He hadn't charged it, hadn't touched it; he wondered if it would even turn on had he pressed the button on the side. He sighed pathetically, picking it up and placing it swiftly in the pocket of his sweatpants. _After I'm done decorating, I'll ask Drista if I have my freedom. I won't even look at any other social media._ The deal Dream made with himself granted a faint sense of peace through him, and he mindlessly wandered back the drizzling rain outside.

  
~~

  
"Perfect," Dream said boldly aloud. 

  
The mixture of red, yellow, and purple flowers were intertwined around the flat patch and into the ground, and a silver-y grey rock he had found was placed at the head. He had brought it upon himself to draw Speckles across it with a small rock he had found at his feet, and for once he felt content with a task he finished during the past week.

  
A car squealed faintly in the background, though Dream ignored it. 

  
He fell partially to the ground, his knees sinking into the soft grass beneath his feet. He then just sat silently, admiring his work to the point he had memorized every leaf and petal surrounding it. 

  
A different car hummed down the street, and from the sound of the engine, it seemed to have approached near his house. But when it suddenly disappeared, he assumed it drove away.

  
He sighed, pulling out his phone - its dark screen now dappled with rain drops.

  
Squeezing the power button, he watched as it slowly came to life. And as it slowly brightened, Dream found himself wondering what the first thing he would do when he removed himself from isolation.

  
Make a statement on Twitter? Join someone's stream as though nothing happened? Text his friends apologizing? Text Sapnap?

  
Text George?

  
He only recently come to realize it, but his killing of George seemed to weigh on him particularly extra. He didn't know why, especially since he also killed Sapnap. And everyone else. 

  
Maybe it was the sudden ghosting of his best friend, the vague and unpredictable behavior he had admitted to someone he had hardly ever been angry or disappointed at; he was treating George like that was the case, but in all simplicity it wasn't. 

  
His phone finally revealed his lock screen and the battery percentage. One percent was all he had, but technically all he needed to send one text before making it back to his charger. 

  
Muffled voices coming from what was likely his neighbor's house started to distract Dream, but he once again brought his focus to the small screen displaying what had to be thousands of notifications. And though he tried to ignore it, to click on the text icon at the bottom of his phone, he had no way to ignore the particularly bold set of notifications, all different, yet all over the same topic.

  
His eyes breezed through them, and his thumb seemed to quiver at the frequent inclining across the glass protector. 

  
Then he heard a doorbell ring, the openness of the glass door making it impossible to ignore.

  
He scurried through his house, ignoring the traces of mud he had tracked in or the water droplets flicking from his hair. The doorbell rung again, and he hesitated only briefly before turning the knob.

  
"What-"  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- sorry this chapter is so short, it needed to happen before the next one and it wouldn't fit if i added it to it. plus the next chapter is George's pov, so it definitely wouldn't have worked  
> \- also this story is very much an alternate universe because of how messed up the timeline is lolllll sorry if it's confusing  
> \- p.s. stream Roadtrip 
> 
> hearts


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...because for once he wanted to hug someone. He wanted to be held, and he wanted to bury himself in comfort."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tw
> 
> \- george pov whooooo

  
**George**

  
_Two days post-Dream's breakdown_

  
He hadn't blinked in minutes. In fact, he wasn't sure he was breathing, either.

  
The screenshots had gone in trances of blur as George took moments to comprehend what exactly Sapnap was dragging him into. A bad idea, for sure. 

  
Sapnap's eager and boisterous voice urged George to read faster through his phone, but he ignored the demands of his friend. Screenshot after screenshot, words on top of words. It had taken him a solid ten minutes and the multiple re-readings of the texts before the realization clicked in:

  
He was going to Florida, and soon.

  
"Your flight isn't until like, five days or something so you'll have plenty of time to pack. And we're technically only staying a week, so it shouldn't interfere with too many things on your oh-so-busy schedule." For once, Sapnap's words registered in his head, and George slumped back onto his couch, head buried in the crevice of one of the cushions.

  
"This is insane, Sapnap." There was silence on the other line, likely Sapnap soaking up each word George had to say as his silence had been a deafening feat in his excitement. "We can't just go to Florida. There's just so many more factors in play here. What if-"

  
Sapnap's voice quickly drowned out his thoughts, his ragged voice screeching through the line. "No what ifs. Drista has told us everything we need to know, and from the sound of it we need to go. You have the texts right in front of you, full disclosure."

  
"I'll amuse you, Nick." His voice was deep with sarcasm, yet a hint condescension bled through. "Say we show up, and he's, like, completely fine. Or, hear me out, he's not happy to see us. Then what? We either burden our friend with our presence or ruin our friendship with our presence."

  
"George, one - he'll be happy to see us. It's _us_ for God's sake. Second - if he's completely fine, then he's definitely not fine. He hasn't responded to me, and I _know_ he hasn't responded to you." George grimaced at the words - they were true. "Whatever his moment was on screen was something more, and obviously he's trying to stay away from the internet. So, we'll avoid the internet, too."

  
"You say Drista's told you everything she can, yet she's hiding from us the one vital piece of information we need."

  
"She said it wasn't her burden to tell. Which I get, and _you_ should definitely get."

  
He sighed - he was right. But Sapnap didn't get it, the situation was different for him. If their friendship wasn't ruined from the mere fact of the unscheduled visit, it would be after he crossed the unspoken line he and Dream had made over the years. 

  
The line of late night calls and texts, and the complete and utter vulnerability Dream and him had revealed to each other, yet there was one vulnerable aspect that that he dismissed. That he respected.

  
The line of sly jokes on screen and teasing off screen - so comfortable with each other it would be easy to see that they simply knew everything about each other.

  
The line that with every updated picture Dream exposed to the internet, he was just as in awe and in surprise as everyone else. 

  
Because he had never seen Dream's face, and a part of him savored that. That one day, he would have finally allowed Dream to trust him enough and he would be granted something so rare and treasured that their friendship will have peaked. Perhaps that thought was why he liked not knowing, that after the peak of their friendship, there would be nowhere left to go.

  
For the hundredth time, he silently read over screenshotted messages between Drista and Sapnap on his phone.

  
~

  
_**dream's sister** _

  
drista can i ask you something

  
_ok..._

  
so you might already know, but dream was a dick on the server today  
and he's not responding to anyone's texts  
so can you like idk tell him to text me? or anyone for that matter?

  
_yeah i saw, he's not responding to me either so i don't really know what you want me to do_

  
you're his sister, can't you figure something out?

  
_ok asshole, i can't work wonders but i'll try_

  
that's all i ask 

  
~

  
_**dream's sister** _

  
_um sapnap he's here_   
_at the house_   
_what do i do_

  
FIGURE OUT WHAT'S WRONG  
hello?  
drista, it's been like an hour HELLOOOOO

  
_he looks like shit_   
_like I've never seen him this bad before_

  
did you figure out what's wrong?

  
_yeah..._   
_it's not something i can share, but i have a potentially terrible idea_

  
share with the rest of the class pls

  
_you should come to florida. and George, of course_

  
~

  
_**dream's sister** _

  
ok, let's do it. we're coming to florida

  
_YAYYYY ok i'll look at flight plans u get George convinced and start packing. i swear if u show up in some khakis or some shit i'll throw u back on the plane myself_

  
what makes you think George isn't already convinced?

  
_because he's George_

  
tru, when does he need to be convinced by?

  
_well he's going to have a long flight so six days, maybe?_

  
done, send me the details and we'll see you soon

  
~

  
The last screenshot had flight plans, meeting areas, and other details significant to travelling across the world. At least for him, anyway.

  
He was meant to arrive around four hours before Sapnap, which meant he had four hours to sit in what was likely going to be a hot, Floridian airport, drowning in his thoughts and attempting to convince himself to hop right onto another plane and fly back home. 

  
A terrible idea.

  
"One week?" George's thumb threaded across his leg, a symptom of nerves he didn't know existed until today.

  
"One week." Blunt, but comforting.

  
"Fine, we're going to Florida."

  
~~

  
_Four days post-Dream's breakdown - two days into isolation week_

  
"I feel like we should tell them." Sapnap's voice was slightly drained out by George's zipping of his suitcase.

  
"I'm not saying we shouldn't, but maybe we should wait. Like until we arrive and are there a few days. As soon as the internet knows, I'm not sure either of us will be able to leave Dream's house without being surrounded."

  
"Wow, George, it sounds like you might actually think this trip will go good."

  
"I said literally nothing that implied that." He hastily finished the last zip, and grunted in pain as the metal connector pinched his skin.

  
"Maybe not, but you're implying that three of us might actually want to go in public together, which means we would be hanging out. _'The Dream Team,'_ together at last." George heard a munch of chips on the other line and rolled his eyes at Sapnap's audacity.

  
"I'm just saying since we're coming all this way that a few days of peace might not be so bad. For whatever we plan to do."

  
"Fair, but I still want to tell everyone." When George groaned, Sapnap continued with a persuading voice. "C'mon, George. It's not like everyone is going to recognize us. Plus it'll give twitter something new to talk about, though I'm sure the moderators will be pissed it's over practically the same people."

  
George couldn't help but loose a short laugh. "I guess, but don't you think it's going to also feed twitter? Like, Dream has a meltdown then a week later George and Sapnap visit him for the first time?"

  
Once again, Sapnap's audacity slipped through. "Well, it's not technically my first time."

  
George marched to his phone, holding the speaker directly near his mouth so Sapnap would receive a loud sensation. "Listen, arse-hole, I just finished packing my suitcase on a trip that I still don't think is a good idea and I will dump it back onto the floor. And I don't exactly feel like repacking, and I'm definitely not going without a suitcase."

  
"Fine, ok, god. You're such a baby." The whine in his voice was obvious, and he knew Sapnap was at his whim. "But still, can we tell everyone? I'm so excited it's killing me, and it's not like Dream's going to see it. Drista said she made sure he wouldn't."

  
He fell to the floor, trailing his back along his bed post. With a loud sigh, and an obvious grace of annoyance in his tone, he said, "Fine. What are we going to say."

  
"Oh, I've thought about this for forever." There was silence on the other end until suddenly his phone buzzed with a text. "Let's do this."

  
He looked unamused at the message until he brought a finger up to rub his temple. " _This_ is how you want to tell everyone?"

  
"Absolutely."

  
George went to Google on his phone, typing in the line that was so cheesy he cringed. 

  
_what are palm trees?_

  
He screenshotted the question and cropped it to where it would only show Google's title and the search engine. He shook his head at the finished product with avid disappointment.

  
"I can think of so many better ways to break the news. And I know what palm trees are."

  
"George, George, George. That is so not the point. The point is to be dramatic but also vague so people will freak out more."

  
"That sounds mean." Sapnap chuckled through the phone, and he could sense the obvious look of I-don't-really-give-a-fuck on his face. "How are you sharing to the world on your behalf? 'What is the ocean?' You're so funny I might die."

  
Silence now, and George almost burst out laughing at the idea of Sapnap's defeated gaze. "No. I wasn't."

  
"Ok, then what?"

  
Almost inaudibly, he heard him mutter, "Why is Texas better than Florida."

  
He hummed in response, not as cringe as his own but definitely not the best. "Just do it."

  
"Really?" His tone lit up automatically, and George caved once again.

  
"Yes. Are we tweeting it now?"

  
"Same time. One, two, three."

  
A little noise emitted from his phone signified it had uploaded, and he only rolled his eyes once more. "This is one of your stupider ideas, I hope you know that. If I get a DM from a twitter moderator later I'm putting the blame on you."

  
"Worth it."

  
As he placed his suitcase near his door, he watched his phone light up with notifications to no end. 

  
~~

  
_Six days post-Dream's breakdown - four days into isolation week_

  
His black suitcase seemed to mock him as it disappeared into the airplane terminal.

  
The airport seat's cushion was significantly used, yet its plush still provided enough comfort that George was comfortably panicking until his flight took off. He had bought a magazine at a shop and a coffee at a cart, yet his eyes were glued to the ground in front of him.

  
_All these people, going about their day. Probably going to see loved ones or friends excited to see them._ He rolled his at his mental statement, burying deeper into the small chair. _Stop being stupid, George. He will be happy to see you. You're his best friend._

  
Biting the inside of his cheek, his fingers once again traced his pantleg. _His best friend who has never seen his face. His best friend who is probably betraying his trust._ He then scrunched his nose, disgusted at what the next week would have in tow. Either everything or nothing could go right.

  
A light dust of snow trickled in from outside, but the ground showed no trace of the white substance due to the rapidly incoming terminals and planes. It had also been snowing at his house, and his jeans were slightly wet at the bottom seams as proof. 

  
His plane would take off in an hour, and George rested his head back on the rim of the chair, eyes squinting at the bright overhead lights. Before he knew it, the hour was up, and he loaded onto the metal object that would fly him to his unpredictable future.

  
~~

  
He was stuck in between two people who were not kind to him.

  
Whatever airline Drista had chosen was obviously some sort of cheap joke as the seat barely fit his thin legs. The armrests were hardly wider than an inch, and each were taken by the people he sat near. They were so close their breaths collided and he was sure he could hear their heartbeats. The only good thing about the airline was the allowance of internet, and he found grace in his laptop sitting on the small console in front of him. 

  
He was currently scanning through twitter and the still rambunctious tweets from users of all sorts. His feed was full with comments and concerns for Dream, and the fact that he and Sapnap were currently flying to Florida, and he could only wonder how his friends' could be. He wondered if Dream knew, if he had at some point attempted to bring himself out whatever hole he dug himself under and come back to life. But then he saw how bad the situation had escalated, and sank back to wherever he came from.

  
Or maybe he hadn't, and he was genuinely not ok.

  
Five hours he been thousands of feet in the air, and he still had hours to go. His stomach had been in knots the entire time; his circumstances of every feat seemed to weigh against him. Suddenly the woman to his right was resting her head on his shoulder, snoring boisterously in his ear. 

  
His blood heated with anger and annoyance, and he realized he was running out of ideas to avoid this exact situation. He then found himself texting Sapnap a rather annoyed message, a distraction of sorts until another bathroom break wouldn't be frowned upon. He _had_ gone four times already, and the man who had a mysterious dark aura to his left gave him particularly displeased looks as George forcibly pushed through his legs.

  
~

  
_**Sapnap**_  
there's a lady snoring on me and another man looks like he wants to kill me. if your plan doesn't go according to plan, i just might let him to me and you

  
_well if it makes you feel better, from where i'm sitting rn it looks like there's going to be like three babies on the plane which means i won't get to sleepppppppp_   
_it's like an eight hour flight or something_

  
mine's like triple that

  
_i feel like that's an exaggeration_

  
~

  
He smiled slightly at his friend's stupidity, then something occurred to him: Dream wasn't the only one he would see in a few hours.

  
~

  
_Sapnap_

  
it just occurred to me  
we're going to see each other for the first time   
in person 

  
_we're gonna hug ;)_   
_and kiss_

  
no we're not. in fact, i think i'll just completely ignore you on this trip

  
_u wouldn't_

  
i would

  
~

  
Three dots popped up then disappeared, and George wondered how Sapnap would choose to respond. Then a picture came through his snapchat, and he sighed dramatically as his friend flipped off the camera. He sent a picture back of the lady's head on his shoulder; her hair was draped over her face and a bit of drool he hadn't yet noticed hung from her lip. He almost gagged at the sight, pressing send with a distasteful look on his face.

  
Sapnap sent back a video of all the babies in their strollers, and George fought back a laugh.

  
Leaving his friend on _seen_ , he turned his head slightly to look out the inch of sunlight peaking through the window. The clouds were beautiful and fluffy, and the sunlight hit just right on the white sensations to make him squint. It was nearing night, and soon he would fall asleep likely in the same position as the lady next to him.

  
When another two hours slowly and painfully passed, he found the darkness urging him to give into his exhaustion. He normally wouldn't fall asleep this early, but his stressful circumstances gave him no choice.

  
His eyes flickered in a sleep-driven haze a couple times, but he made one last decision before he would inevitably weaken entirely.

  
His phone rested atop his laptop, and when punching in his passcode he pulled up the most familiar name on his phone during recent days. Scrolling through the hundreds of unread messages he had sent, he typed up one more to Dream - one he hadn't sent yet. 

  
~

  
_**Dream 💛** _

  
i know you're probably not going to see this, or any of my other messages, but i need to tell you this before just ... before. i'm coming to see you, surprise, but there's one big inconvenience about that. i'm going to see your face, and that means i'm taking away the one thing you've been able to keep as your own for all these years. i don't know how this is going to affect our friendship, or what's going to happen over the next week, but i want you to know something. that no matter what, i love you dream, and i'm sorry.

  
~

  
There it was: the complete and utter disclosure his friend had always begged him for as long as he can remember. The three harmless words that should have been so easy to say, yet typing them had been even harder. _I love you, such stupid words_ , George thought. _He's not going to see the text anyway._

  
And suddenly, a new emotion slipped into his veins. Anger.

  
He dropped his phone onto the desk hastily producing a startling noise catching the attention of the man to his left. He felt the contents of his stomach reach his throat as his tattoos and piercings seemed to glow in the dark. His dark eyes somehow staring through his soul, and his lips cruelly flicking in an amused way.

  
"Sorry," George murmured shyly.

  
"It's alright." His voice was deep and had a rasp to it, yet another aspect to his demeanor that scared George to no end. "Are you ok?"

  
George furrowed his brows, confused and bewildered on if this man actually cared about his well-being. "Yeah, I guess. My friend is going through something and won't talk to me."

  
"I'm sorry to hear that. Are you on your way to see him now?"

  
This time his eyebrows raised; an odd assumption to be displayed so accurately. "Yeah actually. How'd you know?"

  
"You want the honest answer?" George skeptically inclined his head. "I recognize you from twitter. Apparently some guy named 'Dream' or something had a meltdown and there's some people that are visiting him. And you look exactly like one of those people."

  
George audibly snorted. How was the meetup of a few Minecraft youtubers so popular that a random guy on a plane recognized him? 

  
"Well, you would be correct." He wasn't sure what else to say; everything had pretty much been laid out.

  
"I hope he's alright, Dream, I understand what -" The man abruptly cut himself off, almost like he would have regretted anything he said further. When George gave him a confused look, he continued smoothly, his voice raspy even through the quiet tone he attempted. "People go through stuff all the time, and I guess I have a feeling he goes through a lot, too."

  
They were silent for a moment, and the man swiftly rested his back on the seat. Out of nowhere, the man mutters mainly to himself, "Masks. The best and worst thing to be invented."

  
George side-eyed the man, and for once took in his primary features. His jawline has been sculpted elegantly, and his dark hair fell just across his forehead. His eyes were just as dark, and his smirk when he noticed George staring was almost paralyzing. 

  
"Do I know you from somewhere?" George blurted.

  
The man gave the same side-eyed glare, except cockishly more relaxed. "Just a stranger on a plane."

  
George hummed in doubt, though dismissed the absurd thought that he _actually_ recognized a random guy he was seated next to. He was just easy to talk to, that's all.

  
After a few moments had passed, George found himself succumbed to the inevitability of his exhaustion and rested his head atop the mystery woman's to his right, and for some reason was perfectly comfortable.

  
~~

  
The Florida airport was, in fact, hot and disgusting.

  
It was barely spring and yet the heat was blistering through the tall windows; the air conditioning loudly humming from the ceiling was mocking him. Notoriously.

  
His sweatshirt was no longer needed, and he distastefully tossed it on the seat next to him. One hour, he had been in Florida, and he already felt he was dying at the sun's hands. He missed the snow he had left the day before, the chilly air and misty dew that washed out the mornings. He was far from home.

  
When a drop of sweat trickled down his forehead, he swiped it with a finger hastily and groaned. _An entire week here. It better be worth it._ Another drop fell except this time he took his shirt's rim and swept his forehead. 

  
The corner he had fixated himself in was somewhat near where Sapnap would soon exit his plane, and though it was utterly useless at the moment, it was in the middle of where an air conditioner should be blowing air. He wondered if he was an obvious outsider with his visible discomfort or if others were suffering as much as he was.

  
His scan of the glassy area deemed that it was half-and-half, obviously the people who had just flown in versus the people who called Florida home. He felt slightly better at that, but knew the moment he stepped outside would wipe the feverishly content look off his face.

  
His throat felt suddenly dry and depleted, and he realized he needed a drink. 

  
It shouldn't be a big deal, really. Just buy a coffee or a water like he had in England. But England versus Florida was the difference: it would be his first time making a public interaction, and quite honestly he dreaded it. 

  
Just walking around the airport he risked being noticed, and he wouldn't be surprised if some fans were waiting for him on high alert. Even in England, confrontation from fans had been a nerve-wracking experience and even through his eternal gratefulness, he couldn't help it.

  
He was also nervous because according to every movie he's ever watched, Americans find British accents intriguing and attractive. At the very least, he would get blank stares when talking to people.

  
As he waited in line at some sort of concession stand, he did his best to keep his focus in front of him. He felt like everyone was staring at him, even though he was far from some celebrity and hadn't even talked to anyone yet.

  
"Next."

  
The monotonous tone of the cashier made him relax his shoulders a bit. "Just a water please."

  
He opened some sort of cooler and pulled out a bottle. "Five dollars."

  
_He's not even phased. Must be because he works at an airport and sees people like me every day. Damn, am I that full of myself?_ "Thanks," he said, handing him various crumpled ones.

  
As he turned he sighed, relieved for the little confrontation. Until his moment ended, and his shirt was tugged on from the back.

  
"Hi, oh my god I was right. GeorgeNotFound?" The blonde girl had to be no more than fifteen, and her eyes lit up in pure excitement. He suddenly found the long line that had once trailed behind him staring, and his cheeks flushed a slight pink.

  
"Um, yeah. Nice to meet you."

  
"The pleasure's mine. Um, so, is he here yet? Is Dream picking you up?"

  
His eyes flicked side-to-side; he wasn't sure what to say. Should he lie? Should he tell her that he was waiting on Sapnap?

  
"No, I actually just got off my plane."

  
"Oh, well, welcome to Florida." When his blank expression was all he could muster, she looked to have realized something. "Shoot, you probably think I'm some sort of stalker. I'm not, I'm actually here to pick up my friend from out of state. I just can't believe I was here at the same time as you, so I had to say hi."

  
He sighed at his stupidity. "No, it's completely ok. You're always welcome to say hi." He wiped a burdening trickle down his cheek, and the girl giggled slightly.

  
"The air conditioning is broken in the main stretches of the airport. But I guess it'll prepare you for out there, because I promise it's worse."

  
His groan was audible, and she laughed once again. "Great, can't wait."

  
She made a move to leave, obviously knowing her time with him was spent. Over the shoulder, she said, "I hope you enjoy your stay. And whatever's wrong with Dream, I'm sure just you being here will make him ten times better."

  
He only smiled before trekking back to his seat.

  
Glancing at his phone, he said aloud, "Only two and half more hours before I exchange one hell-hole experience for another. What a time to be alive."

  
~~

  
His plane had landed, at least that's what the tv screen ahead of him showed.

  
He was here, _Sapnap_ was here, and he couldn't be more excited.

  
His shirt was now drenched with sweat, though it was hard to tell from the black cotton. He opened up his texting icon, ready to send Sapnap an updated message on his whereabouts. Quickly, he typed:

  
~

  
_Sapnap_

  
i'm in some lounge center to the left where you come in, hurry up

  
_i can't tell the airplane attendants to stop the plane faster, dipshit_

  
~

  
He didn't bother responding, anything else they had to say they could finally say in person.

  
His heart pounded slightly in anticipation, his eyes staring intently at the door he would come through. Then it opened, and out came people in various Texan or business or plain attire, until his eyes met the only person he cared about.

  
Sapnap's eyes skewered the area in search of him, and it wasn't until he stood up abruptly that his focus was fixated. 

  
As though it was nothing, Sapnap left his small bag he was carrying on the floor and ran to George; he was so stunned by his friend's presence he couldn't move, and before he knew it he was being scooped up into a massive hug. George gave in slightly, squeezing his friend's back as his legs dangled from the ground.  
Suddenly a cold breeze hit him like a train, and George squirmed free of Sapnap's grip. 

  
"Yes!" he had no urge to hold back. Everyone else must have been thinking the same thing when people from all areas starting whooping and cheering at the newly working air conditioner. "You're good luck, it's been out for hours."

  
It then occurred to Sapnap, obviously, when he looked down at the growing sweat stains near his armpits. "Gross, have you never had sun in England?"

  
"It was literally snowing when I left," George said with partial annoyance, though it faded when Sapnap merely shrugged his shoulders and hugged him again. 

  
"I can't believe I'm seeing you in person," Sapnap muffled into his shoulder.

  
"Me too," and George squeezed harder.

  
~~

  
_Nine days post-Dream's breakdown - seven days into isolation week_

  
The blue rental car Sapnap had chosen hummed loudly through the neighborhood.

  
Their pace was slow and deflating, and George was sure they had driven around the same house three times already. The neighborhood was huge, and Drista's instructions were apparently not very specific. Sapnap gripped roughly into the steering wheel, groaning as his head fell back against his seat.

  
"It's already, like, nine thirty or something and we were supposed to be there a whole ass hour ago. Why is this neighborhood so damn big."

  
George gave a half-smirk, mostly because he enjoyed watching Sapnap struggle. But despite his momentary pleased interaction with his friend, he was almost entirely lost in his head. Thoughts, worries, predictions - he could be minutes away from ruining a friendship he valued more than anything in the world, and that terrified him.

  
"Wait, 1117. There, look!" George turned his head, and a tall house with a glassy exterior and grey and black designs was stationed partially atop a hill. It had to be one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood. "How did we miss that? It's basically a mansion."

  
Sapnap made a sharp turn and he could hear the tires squeal slightly on the road. "Hey, calm down. It's not like we have a designated meeting time."

  
"Whatever, don't act like you aren't just as excited as me to see him."

  
_I'm not, Sapnap, and if you actually saw the look on my face you would know it, too._

  
"Whatever."

  
Sapnap finally hovered against the curb, parking directly in front of Dream's house. With a swift turn of the key, the engine faded into silence, and George started to miss its white noise distraction.

  
"Ok, let's go."

  
"No. Wait." He twiddled with his thumbs, looking at his lap and ignoring his friend. "This is a bad idea."

  
"George, it's going to be fine. We're here to check up on our friend because he needs us. He needs _you_." He looked up to his friend, and Sapnap's face for once had the caring and comforting look he had been aching for since he had arrived. 

  
"He needs both of us," George said shortly. Sapnap gave a dismissive hum in response, earning a confused look from him but inevitably dismissing it.

  
"Let's go, George. I don't want to waste another second." 

  
He stayed, even as his friend opened the driver's side door, after he walked around the front of the car, and until his own door was being swung open. Suddenly, he was being pulled from the leather seats he had been savoring the chill from. The windshield that he looked out of in concentration. The door he rested an elbow on.

  
And he was now absent of all those things, and his legs felt like jelly as he trekked up the slight hill to Dream's house.

  
_I'm going to see his face. Any second. Oh my god, this isn't happening. This isn't how it's supposed to happen._

  
One ring from the doorbell.

  
Sapnap rested eagerly against a wall, and he hovered distantly behind. Sapnap must have noticed when he turned slightly and said, "Only a week."

  
"I'm panicking, Sap. What if a week is too long? What if it's not enough?"

  
"It's going to be fine. In fact, if he's not happy to see you I'll be your servant for the week." He couldn't help but smile slightly, but he bit it back before Sapnap could see. "But I think a week is _plenty_ of time anyway."

  
Something hiding in the undertone of the last statement made George wince, especially when Sapnap partially cringed to himself almost like he didn't mean to say it. 

  
"Yeah..." George said cautiously before returning to his timid mindset.

  
Two rings from the doorbell.

  
He was now kicking a rock, and he was slowly backing up away from the door. Sapnap went to ring again, but George said bluntly and sternly, "No. Let him come, we don't know what kind of cond-"

  
The door opened, and George could only see the silhouette of the dirty blonde hair that had been so openly described to the world.

  
"What?"

  
There it was, it was confirmed. The single word that just came from the man in the doorway was indeed his best friend. And though he tried, he couldn't look away as Dream had yet to notice him and hugged Sapnap, tightly and graciously, and a part of George was relieved they weren't running back to the car they had been aimlessly driving in for the last few hours.

  
He stood with his arms crossed for what seemed like minutes, and though he couldn't exactly see his face yet, the anger he had once felt on the plane came back to him overwhelmingly.

  
_He's here, and he's ok. He's here, and he's said nothing. He's here, and-_

  
Suddenly George cut off his thoughts, and he turned around facing the empty streets, void except for the bright sunlight glaring from the creamy sidewalk. He then found his head being lowered, the anger turning into shame. He was shameful for being here, for showing up to his best friend's house out of the blue, and on a whim he was supposed to be here for a week. 

  
He heard shuffling behind him, and then once again the voice he was so familiar with. Except this time, when Dream spoke, it was hardly a word. A question, maybe, but it came out as a squeak. "George?"

  
He didn't turn; he wasn't sure he wanted to. To turn around and face the last thing that separated the peak of their friendship, to face his friend who had abandoned him. Or maybe George had abandoned him; maybe he should've continued pestering his friend online. He would have had to come on eventually, and then everything would be back to normal and-

  
"George." His voice felt deflated and raspy, and this time it no held no hint of question. He stayed with his back turned, except now he could practically hear Dream's rugged breathing from behind. 

  
"I'm sorry," George blurted softly. His eyes widened a bit in realization; he had meant to say it in his head.

  
"What on _earth_ could you be sorry for?" Dream's emphasis almost made George break down and fall into his friend's arms, because for once he wanted to hug someone. He wanted to be held, and he wanted to bury himself in comfort. But he held strong for another moment. 

  
"I'm sorry for being here, it wasn't my idea and-" he pinched himself to stop speaking further.

  
"George." Soft and tender. Maybe even grateful. "Look at me."

  
He didn't, only tightening his nails into his skin further. Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, delicate and relaxed, and his body was being turned to face him.

Dream.

  
Now face to face, George did his best to stare at the shoes he wore, until suddenly he was brought into the tightest, most heart-breaking hug he had ever experienced. And he was at peace.

  
His arms had been wrapped around his waist, but he unlocked them until they were around Dream's body. Their hug wasn't like his and Sapnap's; it was like years of relishing in each other's voices, years when all he could do was savor his laugh though wondering what it would be like coming from his lips. Years of patiently waiting, and years of longing for the warmth of the man he trusted most in the world.

  
Dream.

  
And before he knew it, they both were crying into each other's shoulders, not sobs but grateful flows, and any burden or regret or worry from either of them was temporarily gone.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Just a stranger on a plane." lol. he's a stranger if you want him to be
> 
> hearts


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He hadn't looked up, but could tell George was cringing to himself, likely out of his own disbelief that he managed to do what he just did. And Dream let him have that moment, because he was exactly the same way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: panic attacks/anxiety (summary at end of chapter)
> 
> \- dialogue heavy  
> \- dream pov
> 
> note: further chapters might get a little confusing on who's talking, and so when a chapter is a certain pov (for example, dream) his/him and other pronouns are likely referring to dream, and if not then dream's name will be used. i also find details like "the raven-haired boy" and "the green-eyed boy" cringy lol (props to the authors who pull it off though) so i'm going to do my best to make my writing style clear, thxxxx

  
He was crying, and for once he was okay with it.

  
George squeezed his lower back forcefully, melting into their hug and returning the light sobs into each other's necks. They couldn't help it, or at least Dream couldn't help it; out of all the things he expected, of all the things he could have p _redicted_ , hugging his best friend in person wasn't one of them, but he was forever grateful, despite.

  
The sun hit George's exposed neck just enough that it seemed to glisten, and though his mind was a total clusterfuck at the moment, he wondered how long it would take for it to tan. _Because George was in fucking Florida._ When he noticed a drip of sweat lining its way down George's spine, he smiled through a shaky sob, carefully removing his right arm from George's side and swiping away the droplet.

  
"What are you doing," George said shakily, obviously reeling from his own crying.

  
"You're sweating," Dream said, loosing a light laugh as more tears ran down his cheeks. "You've been here for like, five minutes and you're already sweating."

  
Neither had yet to be the first to shy away from the hug, and it seemed that they both were squeezing harder than before. "It's hot. Of course I'm sweating, idiot."

  
George's breath ghosted his skin, and frail goosebumps plastered the area. Softly, and almost shyly, Dream muttered, "Welcome to Florida." George loosed his own laugh, and he could hear the emotion in the noise.

  
Dream buried his nose deeper into George's shoulder, his arms now interlocked and unyielding from their position. He stood still and careful, worrying that the wrong move would make the moment he had looked forward to all these years to end. That the pure happiness and joy would no longer be suitable to relish, and that once they let go, George would be gone.

  
_George was here, oh god._

  
His fingers were no longer interlaced, and he found himself in the horribly dreadful ritual he performed ever-so rarely. 

  
_Tap, tap, tap._

  
His fingers pecked at the top of his hand, and he focused hard on the soft touches. He did his best not to tense, not to sparse his breathing in a way that would worry George enough to abandon him.

  
_Not now, why now. Calm down, Clay. Focus on the tapping._

  
_Tap, tap, tap._

  
It wasn't working, and he was moments away from a horribly inconvenient panic attack. As he was about to pull away, to embarrass himself further and ruin a perfect moment, George mumbled into his shoulder, "I'm so happy I'm here."

  
And a sigh of relief flushed out his nerves, and his heart beat lowered, and his muscles relaxed.

  
"I'm happy you're here, too."

  
~~

  
"You guys are going to have to let go eventually," Sapnap blurted suddenly, and he could tell by the shift in George's body that he glanced up toward Sapnap, no doubt standing either awkwardly or boastfully in the doorway. 

  
"It's true," Dream mumbled, and his nerves spiked plainly out of worry. Not for a new panic attack, not just because of the fact they had to let go, but because it was just now registering to him that George would see his face, and that terrified him.

  
_Okay, Clay, just let go and get it over with. He's here, for God knows what reason, but he's here. Now is the best time for a face reveal than any, I guess._

  
Dream made it obvious when he parted his laced fingers and when his elbows no longer squeezed marks in George's sides. He had to make the first move, because he knew George, and therefore knew that his best friend was panicking far more than himself at the moment. Thankfully George obliged, repeating with the release of Dream's lower back, and unburying himself from his shoulder.

  
_Any second now. He deserves this, he deserves me._ His mind clusterfuck now multiplied. _But what if he hates me for this? What if he hates that this is how he sees me, how this is how it's revealed? He knows I've been waiting and procrastinating, and what if he hates me for it? This is it, this is the end of our friendship. He hates me, he hates me, he hates me._

  
Their eyes met - hazy green and deep brown, slightly sun-tanned skin and light porcelain, hours of cocky remarks and blushing responses, years of voice recognition and pixelated outlines. Dream and George, meeting for the first time.

  
And Dream felt like he was going to throw up.

  
Now unable to hide in the comfort of George's shoulder, basking in the anonymity of his expressions in his crying, vulnerable state, Dream's face was stoic and frozen. George was strikingly similar, except he looked to be in a state of contemplation, and if he looked hard enough, maybe even admiration.

  
The moment was tense and awkward, and within seconds he confirmed George was simply taking in all of his features; eyes, nose, mouth, cheekbones, jawline, hair - George was finally able to see it all, and he wouldn't dare stop him.

  
George suddenly began circling Dream, bluntly and boldly looking him up and down, memorizing every bit he had to offer. George definitely was different off-screen, though maybe part of it was because of who Dream was to him, and how comfortable they were around each other. But then he wondered if George was silently panicking, wondering if he was pushing boundaries and breaking whatever imaginary line he thought had been drawn over the years. But if Dream was being honest with himself, there was no line, and he wasn't pushing it.

  
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sapnap make a move to come closer, a look of confusion but faint amusement on his face, but with a simple glare inaudibly saying _don't you dare come closer_ , Sapnap smoothly backed away before George could notice.

  
George finally finished his studying, looking Dream directly back in his face with a contemplating daze. He urged him to speak, for his friend to tell him what he was thinking, or at least explain why he was here. He wanted something, enough of the silence.

  
"Say something. Please." No underlying tone. No hard-to-decipher words. Just a limp demand, and Dream almost sighed in relief when George complied.

  
"You look ... exactly like they said you would." There was obvious amusement in George's voice, but his eyes looked to urge him to not be mad.

  
"They?" he managed to sputter out.

  
"Oh, um, the people who draw fan art. You look exactly like the pictures." 

  
He couldn't help but grin; his cautious demeanor faded to almost nothing as he translated George's statement in a teas-able manner.

  
"You do realize I'm _hot_ in the fan arts, right?"

  
He bit his tongue to hold in a cackle at George's shocked expression, and before either of them could respond Sapnap butted in. 

  
"So where's our rooms? This place is huge, there has to be extra rooms." He was pleading to be spared - he probably didn't expect their on-screen interactions to be the exact same off-screen, but it came so easily, the cheap remarks and the squirming reactions. 

  
"I guess you guys can have the two bedrooms down the hallway, but I haven't been in there since I moved in so I hope you aren't scared of spiders."

  
Sapnap winced and nodded in disgust, disappearing into his house with a swift turn on his heel. Dream was inclined to follow and invite George, but not before George boldly whispered, "I know," and became the next to disappear in the house.

  
_Well, maybe not exactly the same as on-screen._

  
~~

  
"Am I in trouble?" Dream said as he was shoved into a chair in the center of his living room.

  
Sapnap and George both stood with their arms crossed ahead of him, a ridiculing glare on George and a tender stoicism on Sapnap. It was, quite frankly, intimidating, especially when George was the first to respond.

  
"I don't know, Dream, are you? I mean, let's go over the past ... week and a half, is it?" Dream gave a wary glare - he knew exactly what he was implying, but he didn't want to say it first. "Silent, huh? Well I'll tell you what I mean. You killed everyone on the server, Dream, but for what reason? 'Don't bug me on my day off,' what the hell does that even mean?"

  
George was laying it out in detail, no holding back, no regret, and there was an emotion he hadn't ever truly seen from George. With the stern commands, the blunt statements - George was angry, and he had every right to be.

  
"You're mad." It came out in a croak, and embarrassment swept through him. 

  
"I'm not-" George was swiftly cut off by Sapnap.

  
"We're not mad, Dream. We just want to know what's going on. It's why we're here, because you wouldn't talk to us. You shut yourself off from everyone, and we were worried." Sapnap voice was collected and soft, almost the opposite of George's. It was comforting to him, at least, when he saw George sit down on the couch, biting his lip obviously to prevent further comments.

  
"Speckles died," he said, and the room went dead silent.

  
The air conditioning kicked in and filled the room with chilled air which became a welcome distraction to him. His fingers twiddled around in contemplation as he attempted to find out how he was truly feeling in this situation - how he would describe how he felt to his friends.

  
Was he still sad? _Yes, but coming to terms with it._

  
Was he worried for how others felt about him? _At the moment, no._

  
Was he worried how they felt about him? _Yes._

  
Was he still wanting to be closed off from the world, including George and Sapnap? _He had no idea._

  
"It was my fault, which is why it affected me so much." He saw George's head perk up and Sapnap shift on his feet - they were uncomfortable, and definitely didn't know what to say. "I left the door open and she was hit by a car the night before the ... incident. And you guys and everyone else were constantly telling me to come online and participate that morning, and normally I would, absolutely, but I couldn't. 

  
"I haven't told anyone but my family this before, but I have genuine anger issues, but when she died, I was emotionless, literally. It was like time stood still and I was empty of life. You might already know this because of how timely everything happened, but Tommy's stream was actually what pushed me over the edge, emotionally. I'm not mad at him or anything - I'm actually kind of grateful because if I wouldn't have gotten all my emotions out then, I'm not sure what state I would be in right now."

  
His two friends were utterly silent during his timid rant, but he swore he heard a slight scoff from George. Not out of disgust for Dream, perhaps, but out of disgust for himself.

  
Or maybe he was just envisioning what he wanted to see.

  
He continued, hesitantly. "I feel better now, I guess. I'm coming to terms with it and today I was actually going to put myself back out to the world and explain myself. But I guess now that you guys are here, that kind of fucks up my plans."

  
Dream had been staring at the ground after his recent statement, but he finally looked up at Sapnap; he couldn't look at George - a large piece of his breakdown had to do with him, and he knew George knew it.

  
"So you're okay now? And you're ready for confrontation again? Because we'll help you, anything you need. I'm sorry that happened to you, man." Sapnap moved to hug him, but he felt defeated through the reflection of his actions and only managed a slight lean into his friend's body.

  
"Yeah, I am. Or at least I will be." He contemplated his next words, wondering if he should say what he truly thought, to let them see the vulnerability he had been so scared of. George and Sapnap confronting him was simply reopening wounds he hadn't realized closed, but for once he spoke openly bold. "After I killed everyone on the server, my emotions were overwhelming and I couldn't think clearly, and I thought ... that everyone hated me, and I had no one to talk to. That's why I shut myself off."

  
He swallowed, standing from his chair and hoping to make it to the kitchen for a glass of water and therefore retreating from the uncomfortable environment he had been sucked into. And as he walked past Sapnap, walked around the couch that George oh-so-silently sat on, his friend said for the first time in minutes:

  
" _Bullshit_."

  
"George," Sapnap scolded.

  
"No, Sap, that's bullshit." George stood up quickly, maneuvering around the couch until he was standing in front of Dream. "And you know it, too." George pointed at him for stern effect, and he stood there frozen taking in the reprimand. "I'm sorry Dream, I truly am. I know what it's like to lose a pet, and it fucking sucks. But to close yourself off from the world and talk to nobody after having a mental fucking breakdown in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers? Bull. Shit."

  
"George, that's enough," Sapnap once again scolded.

  
"No, I want to hear what he has to say," Dream replied dismissively.

  
George continued, "And there is no way that you felt like you had nobody to talk to. That after all these years, all the times when you would talk to Sapnap for hours on end or anybody else, you felt we would abandon you because your fucking cat died. I was worried sick, Dream, and I'm pissed at you for being so selfishly in your own world."

  
_He's mad because I didn't talk to him, but he doesn't understand I couldn't._

  
"No George, maybe you're being the selfish one. You don't understand how shitty I felt after it happened, how guilty I felt that I was unable to fucking cry over my own cat dying. I'm sorry that I killed you, I'm sorry that I killed everyone and ruined the dynamic of the server. But George, I was out of my fucking mind, and if you think that somehow makes me selfish? Then screw you."

  
_Guilt, pure guilt. How could I say those things? I didn't mean it, not truly. Oh god._

  
_Tap, tap, tap._

  
"Dream, I don't care about the damn server! What I care about is how you felt that me or Sapnap weren't trustworthy enough to feel comfortable talking to us. Or to tell us - me, that you have anger issues, or your fa-" George stopped himself, for once showing regret in his words.

  
He bit his cheek slightly, attempting to focus on steady breathing as to not concern either of his friends from their current conversation. "My face. Because I didn't voluntarily show you my face."

  
"I just don't get how I didn't deserve to know."

  
Unsteady knees, heart pounding, shaky hands. He needed to sit down, and he barely made it to a barstool in the kitchen before he collapsed.

  
"What's wrong with you?" Sapnap asked immediately, the first to understand something was wrong.

  
"I'm ... fine," he managed in between shaky breaths.

  
_Tap, tap, tap._

  
"No, you're not fine. What's happening, Dream?" George now seemed to worry.

  
_The tapping isn't working._

  
"I'm fine, just keep talking. Distract me, please."

  
He was now fully shaking and his light pants were now heaves. He moved from his light taps to scratching his scalp; he needed something to focus on - he would usually rely on petting Speckles, though it was now no longer an option. He had never had a panic attack this severe, and the only way to get through it was to find a focal point.

  
"Oh shit, George he's having a panic attack. Get some water from the sink, quick." Sapnap was quick-thinking, soon making his way to Dream's side. He shook him off feverishly.

  
"No, distract me. I-I need something to focus on. Talk or something." He was impressed he was able to say a full sentence, and hopefully his friends would obey his single command.

  
"Okay, okay. Um, remember a little over a year ago when we were trying that mod and you were getting so mad because it wasn't working on my end so you ended up getting rid of it? Well it actually did work, I just thought the mod was stupid and I didn't want to do it." _What a moron._

  
He sunk from the barstool until he was sitting on the ground. His knees brushed against his chest and he was still scratching his head.

Spinning room, adrenaline spikes, loss of air.

  
"Dream," he heard George shakily mutter, "what can I do? Please, tell me."

  
The guilt hit him again - George was likely blaming himself for his panic attack, but it wasn't fully true. He managed a peak up to his worried and confused friend, saying quietly, "Distract me."

  
Sapnap had stopped speaking, George did nothing; the room was silent for what seemed like hours, but in the reality of the few quiet seconds, he had sunk his head to his knees and relied on relaxing his breathing, his friends obviously no longer helping. Suddenly, George sunk down, and they were both sitting under the small overlay of the counter.

  
His head was still buried on his knees, but he strained to hear what George would say or do. Finally, George said softly, "Focus on me," and before he knew it a finger was drifting his chin away from its position and his lips were sinking into the tenderness of George's.

  
He had to admit, a kiss with his best friend was a very easy focal point, and he concentrated on how their breaths warmly collided, how George's nose was stilled on his cheek and how their lips remained frozen in an unpassionate, but comforting, kiss.

  
And before he knew it, his once ragged breaths were now fluent releases.

  
George didn't pull away, so Dream did first. Their kiss was likely only a few seconds, but it took away minutes of anxiety-filled torture. And though he was absolutely in awe with confusion and disbelief, he was grateful that George had chosen something so daring after his audible disappointment with him just minutes before.

  
He stared at the ground, and George shuffled away. 

  
_Tap, tap, tap._

  
This time his ritual was a source of comfort, and now the last step into biding past the mentally painful sequence of events. He hadn't looked up, but could tell George was cringing to himself, likely out of his own disbelief that he managed to do what he just did. And Dream let him have that moment, because he was exactly the same way.

  
Sapnap cleared his throat awkwardly then said, "Are you ... better now?"

  
He inclined his head slightly as a _yes_ and he could tell that both of his friends sighed in relief.

  
Finally able to see clearly, he rested his head back to the wall of the counter, now fully aware of Sapnap and George's current emotions. Sapnap was scratching his nose, and he found it amusing how he looked more in disbelief than the two themselves, combined. George was balling his fists, and definitely cringing to himself, though watching Dream's every moves intently. 

  
But they were both waiting for verbal confirmation he was okay.

  
"Thank you," he said to neither of them in particular - just a general thank you, and he meant it.

  
"Thanks for causing your panic attack?" George deadpanned, then mumbled just loud enough that Dream heard, "Because I couldn't control my fucking emotions."

  
"George," he made a move to stand for the first time, head spinning slightly but mostly an after-effect, "it's not your fault."

  
"The hell it isn't. I yelled, said stuff I didn't mean, and it just added to your jumble of emotions you still haven't learned to handle. So yes, I caused it."

  
"So I told you guys I have anger issues, but I also have panic attacks. Obviously. But the thing is, despite all the stress I've been putting myself under, I hadn't had one yet. Well, I guess I almost had one earlier but I got over it. But it's exactly like what happened when I broke two weeks ago - bottled up emotions becoming one huge outburst." He moved directly in front of George, making him look up from the floor. "It's not your fault, and you meant what you said." 

  
"Well then I guess half of your last statement is true, then." George noticeably bit the inside of his cheek.

  
"Which half is that?"

  
"I think you know."

  
He meant what he said.

  
~~

  
Dream softly knocked on Sapnap's open door, watching as his suitcase's contents were being displayed in no specific order on the floor. 

  
"Not afraid of the spiders, I see?" Dream quipped playfully.

  
"Haha, very funny. It's actually relatively clean in here, but a week of me will change that in no time."

  
_A week._ George and Sapnap had been in his house all of nine hours, and through their particularly frequent blunt conversations, it had never been labeled how long they would actually be staying.

  
"A week, huh. Good to know."

  
Sapnap looked up almost burdened, setting down the crumpled t-shirt he had pulled from the corner of his suitcase. "Is that okay?"

  
Dream loosed a short laugh. "Actually, it doesn't seem like enough time. You both are welcome to stay as long as you want." 

  
"Good to know. Prick." Rolling his eyes, he made a motion to leave the room to find his other week-long roommate when Sapnap made one last remark. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you earlier. What I said was stupid and made everything worse."

  
He smiled reassuringly, thinking of a playful response back to put less stress on his friend. 

  
"Just you being here made it better, but I'm going to think of a way to get you back for that. The mod was awesome, I don't know what's wrong with you."

  
Sapnap hummed pleased. "We'll see, I guess."

  
Giving one last smile, he left the room, approaching the room just across the hall.

  
Repeating the previous knocking, he stared intently at the now closed bedroom door George occupied. When a muffled _come in_ sounded through the pine, he opened the door carefully, shutting it behind him.

  
"Are you okay? You haven't talked to me in over an hour." 

  
George was shuffling through a drawer, putting some unknown clothing contents neatly side-to-side. "Am _I_ okay? I feel like I should be asking you that."

  
"You didn't answer my question." He plopped down on the queen-sized bed in the corner, its sheets crinkling beneath his legs. 

  
"I'm fine, I just ... needed to think, I guess."

  
"About what?" _About the kiss._

  
"About being here. About ... seeing you. I guess you haven't told me how you're feeling about me-us, being here."

  
"A question for a question?" Dream inquired, hoping to settle both of their unspoken nerves.

  
"Sure, me first, though."

  
"Fine," he smiled reassuringly, "I don't exactly know how I feel about it." George huffed, obviously displeased with the response. "God, you big baby. I guess I'm happy, and I mean it, it just was so sudden, and I guess over the years I've been playing in my head all the different scenarios where you would see me for the first time, and showing up at my door after I had a public breakdown was not one of them."

  
"I know what you mean. When Sapnap said I was going with him to Florida, I almost threw up. I guess because I wanted it to be just as special to both of us, and when I was the only one expecting it, it kind of just felt like I was ruining it for you."

  
There came the guilt again, because George was once again putting everything on his shoulders.

  
"You didn't ruin it for me. Not even close, George." Dream sank to the floor, back resting against the mattress. "Actually, if you hadn't shown up today and asked me tomorrow when I would show you my face, I would probably have said never. I've just never had the guts for it."

  
"Why?"

  
"Ah, nope. Question for a question." 

  
George groaned, reaching for a pair of socks placed on top of a desk. "Fine. Ask away."

  
"Are you okay?"

  
"You think with the current power you have you would ask a better question then _are you okay_." George looked at him for reassurance, but Dream's face was stoic and stern. He meant the question. "Fine. I don't know exactly how I feel." 

  
An unamused raised eyebrow silently urged George to elaborate.

  
"I feel ... unintimidated by you." _What?_ "Like online when you were just a voice, I was comfortable around you, yes, but always ... nervous. Like if I did or said the wrong thing, then you could block me on everything one day and I would never hear from you again. But now that I'm seeing you in person, you're just an extremely tall baby."

  
Dream huffed, appalled by the remark; this was not how he thought their conversation would go. "Yeah and in a week, you're just a block button away."

  
"You wouldn't." 

  
"I would."

  
"Fine. Then in a week when you can no longer see my tweets because you blocked me, I'll expose to all of twitter your secret obsessions and mannerisms you have off-screen."

  
"You wouldn't."

  
"I would."

  
And there it was, easily flowing back to their light-hearted bickering, except this time George was there in person, and every detail of exposed thoughts or emotions were especially obvious. Even the rarity of getting George to openly blush and stutter, though he had stated that Dream no longer made him feel that way.

  
"Whatever. I guess we'll have to see where this week takes us," Dream replied casually.

  
"Whatever," George said just as casual.

  
Suddenly Sapnap opened the door with no warning, resting his shoulder on the doorframe and giving a particularly bored face. "I want to do something. I've already explored all the rooms in your house, like, twice. What do people in Florida do for fun?"

  
Dream half-smiled as he took notice to the enhancing red and orange colors in the sky - the ritualistic pre-sunset aura. "I know something."

  
~~

  
Laying a blanket onto the grass of the hill, Dream practically had to beg his two friends to join him in sitting down; Sapnap found it stupid while George didn't feel like sitting in dirt. It wasn't long before they both obliged, shadows making their way across their faces.

  
"I used to drive up here all the time when I first got my license. It's so ... peaceful, and it shows off our sunsets perfectly."

  
"You drove up that dusty road voluntarily?" George quipped.

  
"Yes, now act comfortable."

  
Sapnap sat with his legs extended, putting his upper-half weight on his arms resting behind his back. George sat with one leg tucked to his chest, resting a chin as he tried to hide his obvious admiration for the sky. Dream laid on his stomach, parallel to the edge of the blanket and admiring the sky just as much.

  
"I'll admit it's pretty," Sapnap yawned, "but I cant believe we're watching a sunset right now. I thought you would take us to the beach or something."

  
"Another day, Nick. Admire the little things."

  
"I'm curious too. Why the sunset? Even I have them at home." George's tone was laced with curiosity, unaware of the true meaning behind his love for the sun at the moment.

  
"Watching the sun in the morning and night has become a key part of my schedule the past week. I guess it gives me motivation to get out of bed in the morning, and tells me when I should try to sleep at night, not that it ever works." His head rested lower into his hand, and from the front of the blanket he couldn't see Sapnap and George's reactions, though he had a feeling they were looking at each other sheepishly.

  
"Interesting," George said, and from the sounds the grass under the blanket made signified he had shifted positions, preparing to watch the sunset 'comfortably.'

  
Dream yawned, and for once he felt truly tired. Sapnap had moved his legs to rest atop Dream's, and with a shift of his head he saw Sapnap with his hands as a pillow. George was on his side, propping his head up with a fist. Dream only smiled at the sight, watching as the sun evaded and the stars took its place.

  
And before he knew it, he was sleeping peacefully not because of his pure exhaustion, but because he was in the comfort of his best friends.

  
~~

  
Dream woke to tender shoving against his side.

  
"Dream, Dream wake up," Sapnap slurred tiredly. "The-the sunrise, wake up."

  
Groaning and forehead throbbing from suddenly waking, he partially opened an eye and was met with the sun glaring brightly directly in his face, and he groaned again. 

  
"No. I was sleeping," Dream retorted. He was then kicked pathetically by George, who was sprawled out in the middle of the blanket.

  
"You said you like the sun, so look at the sun." George didn't even manage to raise his head, eyes staying closed as they were buried in his arms.

  
"But I haven't slept in days. I don't care about the sun." Now becoming more aware, he realized just how close the three had shifted to throughout the night. Sapnap was practically using Dream's stomach as a pillow, while George was parallel to his body - legs brushing against each other slightly, and heads in the same corner of the blanket. He didn't bother moving yet; he hoped when George became as aware as him that the blushing nervousness would once again be prominent. 

  
"Don't care. Look at the sun and stop talking," Sapnap said unamused.

  
"But you were talking first, asshole," Dream whined. "Fine."

  
The sun rose painfully slow, and though he was still tired, his first night of full rest made him feel particularly refreshed - motivated. 

  
He shifted around his two friends, laying on his stomach facing the sun. Resting a hand on his chin, he felt especially grateful for the new era the sun rise would bring. 

  
Or more specifically, _day two of friends week_.

  
~~  
  
_**SUMMARY:**_

Dream and George finally see each other fully in person, and in the midst of both of their emotions, Dream almost has a panic attack, but it goes away. Then Sapnap and George have a talk with Dream, and it's revealed exactly why his breakdown took place and all the emotions he was feeling (such as how he felt like he had no one to talk to) - including George. George starts yelling at Dream, asking how could Dream not feel like he could talk to Sapnap (or him, though he didn't say it).

  
Then Dream starts having a more serious panic attack, of which in order for him to get past it he needed a focal point to concentrate (which used to be Speckles). George takes action and kisses him as a distraction, and soon Dream gets past the attack. Then later George and Dream set up a "question for a question" dynamic which becomes more important later in the story, though it's revealed George is basically unintimidated by Dream and his online blush-y and awkward persona won't be as frequent in real life.

  
Then George, Sapnap, and Dream fall asleep under the sunset, and Dream gets his first full night of rest :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i should make a statement that dream still technically had adhd, but i have no idea how to write about it and so anger issues and anxiety replaces it in the storyline
> 
> and i know writing about panic attacks is a sensitive subject, but how i wrote dream's & how he gets past them is relatively similar to how i get through mine
> 
> hearts


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But that's the thing, Dream. I didn't. And there's a reason for that. Some unexplored part of you that resents my existence, and wants to treat me just as any other person who knows basically nothing about your life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tw
> 
> \- comedic relief/less angsty chapter after the last one ;) (besides the summary quote lmao)  
> \- dialogue heavy
> 
> note: sapnap and drista are FRIENDS and FRIENDS only. they're a side friendship in this story. also the way marceline acts is just her personality :)

  
_Day two of friends week_

  
"George, it's been well past a week. I need to put some sort of statement out there."

  
Dream rummaged through a drawer absentmindedly as George huffed from the corner of the room. Sapnap had repeatedly asked to go to the beach since they awoke in the morning, and Dream had agreed though had no idea where he would find a swimsuit. His bedroom drawers were filled with socks and old hoodies and ruffled shirts of every sort, though no typical Floridian beach attire was present.

  
"No. At least wait until tomorrow, today we are going to hang out because the closest thing we have done to 'hanging out' was falling asleep on a thin blanket overnight. I took a shower and I still keep finding grass and dirt in my hair." 

  
George ruffled through his hair in annoyance, and Dream admired his persistence. George's hair looked oddly different in person; on screen it mostly looked to lay flat on his head, brushing his forehead ever-so slightly. But in person it curled at the tips, and there was life from the deep colored roots.

  
Sighing, he flung an old grey t-shirt to the floor and responded monotonously, "But people deserve an explanation." He hastily opened a new drawer, and with a slight careful undertone he continued, "I haven't even talked to anyone else on the server. They probably hate me."

  
This time George sighed, and he made his way to Dream's side and firmly gripped an arm that made to chuck another clothing item on the ground.

  
"No one hates you. They're concerned, and confused, but not angry." Letting go of Dream's arm he traced a fingernail across a board of the dresser contemplatively. Like he wondered if he should disclose the information Dream knew he knew. "They've reached out to me and Sapnap repeatedly. When we arrived I simply told them you were alright, but you just needed some time."

  
George sagged his shoulders a bit, and a shameful flush plastered his face; he felt bad for making a statement for him.

  
"It's okay," Dream said knowingly, and George flashed a half-smile before making his way to the doorway.

  
"By the way, I'm not wearing a swim suit, so you're on your own," George remarked amusedly over his shoulder.

  
And as though on cue, Sapnap rushed past George, holding up a tinted pink floral swimsuit bottoms that screamed horrifically _I'm on vacation, but my swimsuit makes me fit in._ "Bite your tongue, George. We're gonna look snazzy in our swimsuits. Anyway, aren't you looking forward to seeing Dream shirt-"

  
Whether instinctively or absentmindedly, Dream interrupted casually, "You're not wearing those."

  
Sapnap frowned. "And why's that?"

  
"Because it has flowers. I may not be able to see whatever color those are," George butt-in, circling his finger toward the bottoms Sapnap held up, "and I may not know much about Florida, but I know those are probably not what you should wear to a beach full of hundreds of people who will probably be very judgmental."

  
Before Sapnap could retort, Dream asked, "What, do you not like flowers, George?"

  
George looked confused before muttering unamused, "I like flowers. I just don't think they should be on swimsuits."

  
He loosed a laugh, rolling his eyes before sinking to the floor to look in a bottom drawer. Then, thankfully for Dream, his eyes wandered.

  
"Ah, hah!" Dream shrieked, pulling out a bundle of swimsuits from a box under his bed. He looked especially amused when he pulled out two flower-pasted swim-bottoms, tags still intact, and dangling them for George to see. "You know what Nick, wear them." He looked to George and smirked devilishly. "We're all going to match."

  
George scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're going to have to tie me up and force them on me if you think that's going to happen."

  
Dream smirked again. "Is that a challenge, Georgie?" 

  
He waited eagerly for the blush he sought out so entirely to come, remembering George's comment about how he was "unintimidated" by him. His smile faded when George seemed to brush off the comment, not even twiddling his fingers over licking his lips out of nervousness like he had on streams so many times. 

  
_I'll get you somehow_ , Dream thought.

  
"Not a challenge. Just merely stating that you don't have as much control over me as you think," George calmly replied. Dream twitched his eye irritably.

  
"Well, you have a while to change your mind. There's someone I want you guys to meet, first."

  
~~

  
The drive to his parent's home wasn't as long as it had once been so many nights ago. In fact, it flew by as Sapnap and George bickered randomly over nothing or the trio belted a familiar song on the radio. _The Dream Team._

  
Though Sapnap had claimed the front seat and music rights, George had somehow talked him into a compromise, and so now Sapnap sat sprawled out on the back seat with a Bluetooth-connected phone in his hand; George was comfortable in the front.

  
But as more minutes passed, George seemed to become more and more distant. When Dream finally pulled into the familiar driveway, he watched as George leaned against the car door staring blankly at the light grey sidewalks or mini gardens stationed in front yards. And though he had been able to relatively predict what George was thinking since the day he had been in Florida, how George would blame himself for Dream's dismay or feel guilty for showing up in the first place, he didn't have a clue how George was currently feeling. And that worried him.

  
The car abruptly stopped humming, and the lights on the dashboard faded into darkness as he pulled loose the key. 

  
Sapnap took no time to leave the vehicle, stretching dramatically even though it had been an hour drive. But a part of him wondered if he knew Dream wanted a moment alone with George.

  
"Question for a question?" Dream asked softly, staring ahead at the door that had brought his vulnerable state not that long ago. It was ironic, asking George to do the same.

  
George unrested his arm from the car door, sluggishly looking to Dream. "This again?"

  
"Yep, me first. What are you thinking about? You've been quiet."

  
"I have not. I've been talking just like both of you." 

  
"Maybe, but I know when something's bugging you. Now what is it?"

  
George contemplated momentarily, almost like he would choose to not respond. Thankfully for Dream, he did. "I'm burdening another part of your life. Or at least, taking away a part of your hidden freedom."

  
_Not this again._

  
"George, you need to understand something. _You_ are never a burden. Meeting my family is something you should have done ages ago, and it's my fault you didn't."

  
"But that's the thing, Dream. _I didn't_. And there's a reason for that. Some unexplored part of you that resents my existence, and wants to treat me just as any other person who knows basically nothing about your life." For once, George looked sad, and Dream's heart broke.

  
George looked like he was about to open his door, joining Sapnap impatiently waiting just outside the car. Dream grabbed his arm, just as George had done to him earlier, and said, "Don't you ever think that, do you understand? You are more important to me than words can describe, and if there's something of me that's unexplored, it's defining _that_."

  
And at once, they both exhaled, silently grateful for the end of the heartfelt conversation.

  
Simultaneously they opened their doors, and Sapnap sighed, "Finally," before urging Dream to hurry. 

  
"I'm coming, why are you so excited to meet my parents, anyway?" Dream inquired suspiciously. Sapnap merely shrugged and paced slightly by the door; Dream knocked.

  
Within a few seconds, the doors opened, and his sister greeted him with the boisterous grin he knew so well. Drista moved swiftly toward him, looking as though she would hug him; she didn't, and Dream's extended arms looked particularly stupid as Drista started hugging Sapnap tightly.

  
Furrowing a brow, he watched as the two giggled into each other's arms, Drista's golden hair ruffled by Sapnap's hands. Looking at George, he assumed he was just as confused.

  
"Since when are you guys on a hugging basis?" Dream asked, now hovering with George in the doorway.

  
Neither responded and instead pulled apart with beaming smiles and begun an elaborate handshake that completely bewildered Dream.

  
"I assume you didn't expect whatever this is?" George gestured toward the handshake that was still taking place, and Dream merely shook his head in response.

  
"So that's who the handshake is for," Marceline suddenly blurted from directly behind Dream's ear, and as he jumped slightly Marceline laughed as she backed away a step.

  
"You know about this?" He pointed to his best friend and sister, and noted how their handshake finally ended.

  
"Oh yeah. She practices it to herself all the time. In the mirror, at the table. Pretty stupid if you ask me." Dream turned to stare at Marceline who was blankly admiring George.

  
"Don't tell me you're also going to ditch my hug for one of my friends?" Dream said slightly annoyed, though it was obviously laced with sarcasm.

  
"Nah, just admiring pretty boy." She laughed slightly at Dream's partially understanding face before they fell into a brief hug. When they pulled away, she gestured for everyone to come inside, though looked especially intrigued by George - and he caught on.

  
"What?" George asked bluntly.

  
"Nothing it's just," Marceline wandered deeper in the house, he voice echoing against the tall ceilings, "you look _exactly_ like you do through a screen."

  
George looked confused, though he was obviously curious. "What's what supposed to mean?"

  
Marceline looked like she's been waiting for the exact question, a smile obvious even from her distance away in the house. "You just look ... plastic-y is all."

  
"Is that a good thing?" George slightly yelled across the way, and Dream heard Marceline hum pleased in response.

  
Dream took a moment when he entered the house, slightly whiffing the familiar air of cinnamon candles and aloe plants displayed on counters or tables. The house looked exactly the same since he had last come, except it seemed more airy - burden-free, even. Not that he was actually burden-free, but he instead came in the comfort of his friends rather than his troubles.

  
His trance was broken by a soft shoulder bump from his sister.

  
"You okay?" Drista asked quietly enough that no one else could hear.

  
"I am, I think." He looked to his sister, her green eyes so similar to his tinted with some sort of emotion he couldn't quite label. But he had a gut feeling. "You did this, didn't you?"

  
_The smiling at the table the last time I was here._

  
_The specific time frame of a week of isolation._

  
_The demand for no internet._

  
She smiled quirkily, but if faded slightly when she asked him, "Is that okay?"

  
He leaned down slightly, squeezing her shoulders and resting his head on hers carefully. "It's more than okay." Drista looked proud now, and he found it a reasonable time to question her. "Why are you and Nick so close? The last time you saw him was so long ago, and he wasn't even here that long."

  
"I just think he's cool. Cooler than you, anyway." She rolled her eyes, bored of the conversation and trailed off.

  
Looking around, he saw George talking with his parents; he was smiling sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck as his mother was likely complimenting him.

 _Noted_ , Dream thought.

  
Marceline had re-entered the room at some point and made her way to Sapnap, introducing herself as he has never actually told his friends about her role in his life. 

  
Plopping on the couch, he waited as acquaintances were made and until conversations dissipated into nothing. The TV played some sort of kids' station, unfamiliar to him yet he watched intently as the animated characters seemed to be fighting some sort of villain. Suddenly he was met with someone else sitting next to him, and he watched as George rested his feet on the mini table that sat in front of the couch.

  
"What are you watching?" he asked questionably staring at the TV, trying to make out of the colorful characters though obviously failing.

  
"No idea. I was just letting everyone talk for a bit before we left." He subconsciously rested his legs atop the same table George did, placing his hands delicately in his lap.

  
"And you didn't feel like joining? Marceline is ... quite a character." George still looked ahead at the bright screen, and Dream admired his determination to multitask. 

  
"That she is. Her and Drista are basically my managers, but I don't really tell anyone about Marceline. I think she likes it too, having her own secret life. She hasn't known about me as long as Drista, of course, but her role is just as important." He sunk deeper into the cushions, a slight tension headache forming as the bright flashes of light strained his eyes.

  
"Good to know." Neither of them looked at each other, both silently waiting for Sapnap to join them so they could leave. Within a moment, Marceline joined them, sitting in-between George and Dream.

  
"So what do you guys plan to do after whatever _this_ is?" she said, referring to their limp-like figures watching a child cartoon.

  
"Beach," Dream said casually. Marceline huffed.

  
"You guys plan to all go out together? In public? You'll get recognized in a second, everyone in the world knows about you guys being together - Florida especially."

  
Dream contemplated, watching as the UV lights from the TV formed patterns on his arm, and a breeze flowed through an open window. 

  
_It's true_ , he thought, looking to George who had collapsed partially to his side. 

  
"Well I guess I'll just attempt to keep a distance. Nick has been looking forward to the beach more than anything, so we'll have to go at some point."

  
Marceline pursed her lips, thinking through her expressions. 

  
"I have an idea." She looked to George. "Just blend in. Make pretty boy less pretty, wear sunglasses, and George, lose the accent. You'll be given away in a second."

  
George, for once, looked like he had something to say. "First of all _Marceline_ , how exactly do I become 'less pretty?' And second why would I lose my accent? It's not like I'm not trying to be recognized."

  
Marceline looked amused, and George looked ready to bicker. It reminded Dream of their relationship, though there was something different about their bickering; maybe because it was more heartfelt, or that it was just something best friends did. He didn't know exactly.

  
"Well then don't talk to anyone, because if you do and _he_ gets recognized because of it I'll end you." 

  
_Oh, God_. George stilled momentarily, and the determined look he so often made - the slight eye scrunch and the tensed lips, the ever-so light flush he made as he would think of a comeback - was gone. Marceline had struck a weak spot, and Dream knew exactly what George was thinking.

  
"George it's fine. You don't need to lose your accent, but sunglasses are a good idea." George slumped slightly, staring blankly at Marceline. Sapnap finally joined the group, hovering at the backside of the couch. "Do you have a few extra pairs? I have one I keep in my vehicle for myself but the rest are at home, and I don't feel like driving home just to drive back to the beach."

  
Marceline smiled, completely oblivious to the silent burdens George was slowly being consumed by.

  
And Dream hated it.

  
"I have a couple. Be right back." She practically skipped away, the wood squeaking as she disappeared up the staircase.

  
Sapnap leaned his stomach over the edge of the couch, falling until his elbows could rest atop the cushion. He looked to Dream and George judgmentally, then at the TV ahead.

  
"What the hell are you guys watching?"

  
And though they really didn't know, George and Dream knowingly smiled at each other and explained whatever pieces of the storyline they had begun to comprehend.

  
~~

  
"I am _not_ wearing these," George said annoyed.

  
He now sat in the back and Sapnap in the front, and they both toyed with the festive sunglasses Marceline had scavenged up. Sapnap's were decorated with pink glitter, and the lenses were circle-shaped. George's were heart-shaped, and the frames were in a lime green squiggle pattern. Ironic.

  
In a mocking manner, Dream reached for his own plain pair on the dash and placed them across his face, the sun becoming increasingly less bright; he giggled slightly as he saw George roll his eyes from the backseat, clicking a new song with his newfound music rights.

  
"Oh, hell yes! George, since when do you have good music taste?" Sapnap shrieked excitedly.

  
An upbeat song begun playing, and Dream smiled knowing what it was immediately. The radio screen highlighted:

  
_I don't care (I love it) - Icona Pop_

  
Within moments, the three were belting the lyrics, rolling down the windows to let in the breeze produced by the speed of the car.

  
_I got this feeling on a summer day when you were gone_

  
Sapnap screamed the loudest, his vocals likely on the verge of depletion.

  
_I crashed my car into the bridge, I watched, I let it burn_

  
Dream smiled through his singing, watching as George was quietly mouthing along in the backseat - his hair ruffling in the wind and his head slightly bobbing with the beat.

  
_I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs_

  
_I crashed my car into the bridge_

  
They all sucked in a deep breath, waiting for the beat to drop.

  
_I don't care, I love it_

  
And soon the ocean was within eyesight, and they pulled into a parking lot full of other children and families ready for a day at the beach.

  
~~

  
The bathroom they found wasn't very big, and Dream knew George wasn't happy by the way he whined at the dirt stains on the floor. 

  
_Maybe we should have gone home,_ Dream thought to himself after watching a cockroach hide behind a garbage can. He took no time to hurry into a stall and put on his swimsuit and t-shirt; he had no interest in going shirtless.

  
When he exited the stall, he saw George standing with his arms crossed, waiting, only having changed into a pair a shorts and plain shirt - not the swimsuit. George raised a brow in knowing, the bright colored sunglasses shifting on his head, but Dream only shook his head disappointedly. 

  
"What's going to happen when I throw you in the ocean? I mean, since I don't have as much control over you as I thought, I do know I'm at least stronger than you." He stood directly in front of George, looking down slightly to his friend who leaned back against the wall unbothered. 

  
"Then I guess we'll have to find out." Their breaths collided fluidly, and Dream braced a palm against the wall parallel to George's face. Quirking his head, George continued, "If I go in the water, you go in the water, and I can't help but wondering if you'll be wearing this whole ... outfit, when we do so."

  
_He's talking about my shirt. Bold._

  
It was then that Dream declared an unspoken competition - who would break first?

  
Staring at each other momentarily, smirks plastered across both their lips and faces so close that it almost felt like d'eja vu, they both flinched as they were brought out of their trance by Sapnap bursting through a distant stall door - floral swim trunks on and some sort of swim shirt he had likely brought from home.

  
"Alright, let's go to the beach, bitches."

  
~~

  
"Mother fucker," George shrieked, trying his best to not collapse to the ground.

  
The volleyball that just practically demolished George's face rolled on the sand to his right, and the sunglasses he was becoming acquainted to fell to his feet. And Dream was hysterical in the background.

  
"Oh my god, oh my god. Why did we not video this?" Sapnap asked from George's side, cackling as loudly as Dream from the other side of the net. "How did you not even touch the ball?"

  
"Because he fucking spiked it." George gave a condescending glare to Dream, but his silent wheeze almost made him break.

  
"I'm sorry," Dream snorted, taking a breath, "I'm sorry. I didn't think you wouldn't even-" He wheezed again, now collapsing to his knees on the ground and grabbing handfuls of sand to restrain himself.

  
The other random people they were playing with were also laughing, though not as loudly and not as hysterically. 

  
Sapnap made a move to George's side, patting him on the shoulder reassuringly. He was only lightly giggling now as he said, "Maybe volleyball isn't the sport for you."

  
George looked to him unamused, then to Dream who had fallen onto his ass and was leaning his weight against his arms. Still laughing, though he was also dying down.

  
Shaking his head, he picked up the yellow-ish sunglasses from the ground, dusting off the specks of sand and swiftly replacing them to his face. Dream could tell they were bent slightly even from his distance on the other side of the net, and he finally sat up to join his friends.

  
"I'm sorry, George," he said raspy, his voice obviously deteriorating from his laughing. "Come on, let's go watch Sapnap swim in the ocean and I'll teach you how to tan."

  
Sapnap beamed at that, pulling his friends' arms toward an umbrella-covered area with chairs before sprinting off to sea. 

  
Dream sat down on the white, plastic-twisted chair. His legs stretched just past the length of the chair, and head just over the top. George slowly collapsed into his own except bundling a knee to his chest, hiding a grin as he watched Sapnap tip-toe into the water ahead.

  
The sun was slowly sinking over the horizon as they had already been at the beach for several hours. It was only now that Sapnap had chosen to swim, as he had explored every small smoothie shop or tourist booth across the beach line. 

  
And it also meant George and Dream had yet to swim.

  
"So are we going to do that?" George flicked his head to the ocean, obviously asking if they would follow through on their threats to become subject to the ocean. 

  
Dream eyed him carefully, studying his expressions. "Eh, I don't know. The water tends to chill slightly this time of day, and I don't really feel like taking off my shirt and getting wet."

  
He actually didn't want to take off his shirt, but the exact definition why was still unknown. But the exaggeration about his shirt, he hoped, would spark some sort of reaction from George. Unfortunately for Dream, his friend only half-smiled before dismissing the conversation.

  
George hummed under his breath, admiring the puffy clouds as they faded in the multi-colored sky. It pained Dream knowing he couldn't enjoy the sky as much as he could, but George didn't seem to mind, despite.

  
His mind wandered, and he found the sunset especially beautiful as he took in his surroundings. He never did quite love the beach; maybe it was how often he used to go as a kid, and that it had turned something that other people envied to something that became regular and boring to him. 

  
Or maybe it was the symbolism of it; beaches have always been seen as a vacation spot or where proposals took place or where people went to take pictures.

  
He recalled the many times he had seen pictures from his out-of-state friends that vacationed to some sort of ocean, and took plain images of the setting sky or the reflective light segments the water produced. And though it was ironic that he was at the beach doing something similar, he was finally able to equate it to a good memory - being there with his best friends.

  
He seemed to be making several good memories, lately.

  
The two sat in silence for a while, basking in the solemnity of the situation. Occasionally he would see George laugh under his breath as a wave swallowed Sapnap whole, or when Dream would watch as a child built a pathetic sandcastle only for it to get kicked down by likely a sibling.

  
Then George yawned, and Dream smiled in understanding.

  
"You're supposed to be asleep by now. We need to go home now, anyway. The lifeguards will start herding us out soon." George looked inclined to argue, but only nodded as he shifted for a water bottle he had likely forgotten about since they had sat down. 

  
Dream got up, informing a displeased Sapnap that it was time to leave; thankfully he obeyed, but not before splashing a line of water on Dream and running.

  
He almost retaliated, but decided against it.

  
Soon after, Sapnap had dried himself with a towel, changed clothes, and the trio made their way back to Dream's house.

  
~~

  
It was around eight o-clock when they arrived back home, and George was becoming sleepier by the second. 

  
Dream had immediately demanded George to disappear to his room and sleep, and thankfully for Dream's sanity George obliged, but only if Dream would eventually do the same; he agreed, eventually. And from the silence he sensed from upstairs in his bedroom, it seemed Sapnap was following similar pursuit.

  
Shuffling around his bedroom, he sighed with relief as he found a clean pair of sweatpants and shirt. He glanced at his dark phone sitting near his monitor; he had chosen to leave it at home, taking one last day to hide from the world. 

  
But not anymore.

  
He took particularly quick steps to the desk that had displayed his breakdown to the world as he picked up the small object, squinting slightly as the bright light illuminating the dim room. He was inclined to read every notification, comment, concern. But that would take hours, and he had promised George he would sleep as soon as possible. 

  
And he would try, at least. Though he wasn't the faintest bit tired.

  
So he opened twitter, ignoring the thousands of notifications spamming his timeline. He glanced at one unintentionally, and saw it read: 

  
_have you guys seen the lore line-up tomorrow. maybe dream has been ghosting us bc he has some evil-arc coming? just a theory #dreamdissapears_

  
_What is the hashtag?_ He asked himself, sidelining the part of him that eagerly wanted to find out and clicking the section that would allow him to form a tweet.

  
He had an endless amount of time to think of how he would make his first entrance back to the community, and what form of media it would be on. And especially what he would say, which made Dream all the more frustrated as he stared at the blank line as he had yet to form comprehendible words.

  
_Just ... speak from the heart._

  
So he did, and within minutes his tweet said:

  
hey everyone. i'm so incredibly sorry for how distant I've been and how I acted on the SMP last week. the thing is that speckles passed away unexpectedly, and I was going through stuff emotionally and full disclosure, I lost it. I know this is completely unprofessional and that I should keep my personal life separate from my online life, and i'm sorry that they blended together. i'll go live within a couple days and answer any and all questions you have. again i'm sorry, and I love you guys <3

  
The tweet was so long it would be a thread, and though it seemed to be acceptable for the time being, Dream reflected on two words from the tweet he had read just moments ago - _evil-arc._

  
And he grinned, because he had a horribly good idea.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow 700+ hits? that's insane and i'm in awe 
> 
> also i have no idea if they actually know that song but it's one of those songs to me that i feel like a lot of ppl know and would get hyped for so yeah
> 
> i would also like to note that George's bottom will show eventually i just don't like the idea of him being a stuttering mess lol 
> 
> also congrats, you guys are now completely up-to-date with wattpad! new chapter soon
> 
> hearts


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...It's beautiful, isn't it?"  
> Dream smiled, no longer admiring the sky.   
> "It is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tw
> 
> \- filler chapter

  
_Day three of friends week_

  
Dream's laptop hummed softly from his lap, the keys clacking beneath his fingers.

  
His back rested against a wall bordering his hallway to his kitchen, and he found grace in the soft carpet and trickle of moonlight seeping through a nearby window. It was almost two in the morning, so he did his best to keep the noise of his skewering of the internet at bay; he also didn't want to wake either of his friends, which he heard one of them snoring faintly in the distance - he wasn't sure which.

  
The past couple hours had flown by as Dream read through tweets or watched videos or looked at hashtags. _#dreamdissapears_ , he found out, was exactly how it sounded - Dream disappeared, and the hashtag was full of theories or propositions or thoughts. And as he read each and every one of them, for some reason he felt lighter - almost relieved. He had no idea why.

  
The notebook placed just to his side had scribbles of every sort; timelines, thoughts, simple notes - he was still adding by the minute, and he wrote another brief sentence across one of the blue, thin lines.

  
_Rebuilding, reorganizing, new beginnings_

  
That was what today would consist of, what the server participants would be doing. Or at least, that's what the titles of their live streams would display. It was more of a generalization, as there wasn't really anything to "rebuild." The dynamic, maybe, but he couldn't know for sure.

  
He had only plunged through twitter. Not Youtube, not twitch, not even varying social medias. And especially not his phone. It sat just near where his feet stretched out against the carpet, mocking him in all its information-containing glory. 

  
It made him sick.

  
Somehow reading through the most notoriously written death threats on twitter was more bearable than beginning to comprehend what could be on his phone. It was the messages he would read from his friends, the complete and utter worry that they had to have been consumed with. 

  
That was what made him sick. Hiding from his friends.

  
There had been several instances in the time he's taken to come back to internet life, where he had reached over his body and picked up his phone only to set it back down. 

  
But it was okay, though. Just going through one form of social media was one step of progress, and he liked to think that his friends would be supporting of that.

  
In all reality, despite, there was another reason he had chosen to scroll through twitter, specifically. Because it was, in fact, a lore day, and that was something he could work with.

  
A separate notepad he had placed even more convenient than the other held script after script, dialogue and quotations, compromises and possibilities. Not from what others thought or what he had read, but instead how he could work into the lore in mere hours - because that was how he would reemerge to the world.

  
By putting back the pieces to something he broke.

  
He laughed to himself softly, looking to his final jumble of lines and words between the papers opposite each other to the spiral. And he knew exactly what to do.

  
"What are you doing up?" A familiar, raspy voice said suddenly from his side. George rubbed his eyes sleepily, shuffling his feet before sliding down the wall next to Dream.

  
"I could ask you the same thing," he said before shifting his body slightly, moving one of the notebooks out of the way.

  
"This is around when I would wake up normally. Plus I heard you typing so I got up." George rested his head to the wall, looking forward at a distant window ever-so slightly open.

  
He smiled softly before shutting his laptop, opting to take his full attention to George. "Sorry. I tried to be quiet."

  
George yawned before reaching over Dream's body to grab one of the notebooks. Unfazed, but likely because he looked too tired to care.

  
Placing it on his lap, he saw George trace a finger along the lines of scribbles, and though George likely wouldn't be able to comprehend the written clusterfuck that was what his friend was reading, he allowed him. Despite this, George seemed to have realized what exactly the notebook was by a brief raising of his eyebrows and pursing of his lips.

  
"So you've gone online," George said monotonously, not bothering to look up from his reading trance.

  
"Yeah. Just twitter, though. There's a lot to digest."

  
Now George quickly made eye contact with him, a questionable look in his eyes. "Just twitter? So you haven't gone on your phone?"

  
Scrunching his brows and returning the questionable look, he said slowly, "No..." 

  
George looked to the small object near both their feet; it had been kicked slightly when George sat down, but it's screen still sat visibly dark. He looked to have completely awakened, a new underlying determination in his eyes. But Dream couldn't place it for sure, as George looked to him then back at the phone.

  
"What?" Dream asked, instinctively reaching down for his phone and gripping it in his palm. "Why are you being weird?"

  
George widened his eyes so slightly that in the dark he almost missed it, then shifted until his legs were crossed and turning his body to face Dream. He merely watched as George squirmed, wondering if he was amused by the new demeanor or terrified. 

  
"Nothing," George blurted, leaning forward until his elbows were on his knees. They were no more than two feet apart, the air becoming more and more heavy with undefinable burden between them. 

  
"Fine. Then you won't care if I went on to check now, would you?"

  
George hummed a _no_ , and Dream held eye contact with his friend as he unlocked his phone. And as soon as he heard his phone click to signify his correct password, he wasn't able to comprehend how quickly George took the phone out of his hand, running to the other side of the house in mere seconds.

  
"What the hell George? Give me my phone back," he screeched, not worrying if he would wake Sapnap.

  
George ran to the kitchen once he saw Dream get up, finding shelter on the far side of the counter placed in the center of the room.

  
Dream rushed toward George mindlessly, unable to comprehend what was happening. George retaliated, moving opposite to Dream as they chased each other at opposite sides of the counter - George scrolling through Dream's phone all-the-while.

  
Cursing under his breath, whether it was his competitive spirit or his urge to protect his privacy, Dream leaped across the counter, sliding across the marble quickly. George grunted, appalled as he took brief moment to watch Dream's audacity before sprinting out of the kitchen and to the glass door that would bring them to the yard.

  
Dream heard a door squeak in the midst of his confused panic, dismissing it to be what was likely Sapnap waking up to cuss them out for being loud. But he didn't care, his socks providing no cushion as his feet stomped across the house in bewildering disgust.

  
"George, what are you doing? What could possibly," he took his first step out of the house, panting slightly, "be so bad that I can't see it? Death threats?" He trailed George closely now, subconsciously losing more and more interest in the fact that George had his phone but rather what could be on it. "Universal disappointment?" He scoffed, and he saw George slow just as he was about to reach the fence-line.

  
George now stopped completely, and Dream stared at his friend's back with unyielding focus; studying, contemplating, wondering.

  
"Something much worse," George mumbled so quietly Dream thought he made it up. George turned to face him to now, phone extended in a giving manner and a faint smile on his face. "There's nothing."

  
Snatching the phone, Dream looked at the picture on his home screen already displayed before looking at any open tabs - none. Cleared.

  
"George, what did you do?" Stern, demanding, questioning. George merely shrugged.

  
_You being unintimidated by me is really pissing me off._

  
"Something that would just add to your multiplying emotions." He gave George a displeased look, and he continued. "If it makes you feel better, if the day comes to where I think you can handle what I erased, then I'll tell you myself."

  
"So you did erase something." George nodded. "Fine, I will hold you to that."

  
"Fine."

  
Suddenly Dream heard a groan from behind, and when he turned he was met with a sleepily pissed off face. 

  
"What the _fuck_ are you guys doing. It's literally the middle of the night." Sapnap was bitterly unamused.

  
George and Dream wandered slowly toward their friend, both now honing content looks though each for very different reasons. Once reaching the porch, Dream slumped down into a lawn chair, George hovering nearby while Sapnap awaited a response.

  
"I stole his phone," George said with an underlying amusement.

  
"And why did you do that?" Sapnap said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway.

  
"Because it was funny." 

  
Sapnap pouted before yawning, removing himself from the door frame and heading back inside the house. "I'm going back to bed. If you wake me up again I'll end you."

  
Dream heard George laugh to himself before sitting in a different chair to his right. The porch's cover was so thin it barely provided shelter, and the night sky was still entirely visible. There weren't as many stars, but instead the moon was full in its white, circular glory. The ocean reflected the moon, though Dream could see the mirror image at various points in the waves.

  
They sat in silence for a moment, praising the breeze that hit Dream's hair enough it ruffled or comfort he felt while sitting in an actual chair. The only noise that was made was an occasional splash in the distance or the tenderness of their breathing. 

  
"It's ironic," George mumbled almost disbelievingly. 

  
Not looking over, Dream still stared at the sky responding, "What is?"

  
"The sky." George rested his back deeper in the plastic-y contents of the chair, bundling his legs up ever-so slightly. "You say lately you've been admiring the sun more, how it sets and rises in set intervals. It's ironic that I've also always held an admiration for the sky."

  
Now he looked over, and George was, in fact, admiring the ethereal distance. 

  
George continued, "I can't see the colorful aura that so often comes with the sun, so I've always admired the moon. Or rather, the night sky. Though in England I can't exactly see the sky very well in general due to weather, there have been countless times after a late-night stream or I simply couldn't sleep and I would go outside and look at the sky. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

  
Dream smiled, no longer admiring the sky. 

  
"It is."

  
~~

  
The room was dead silent as Dream scrolled through his PC. 

  
The large screens in front of him all displayed different things. 

  
One, twitch - and all the different people online or live streaming at the moment. All his friends, his confidants, participants.

  
Two, Minecraft - the loading screen softly glaring in the somber sun Florida was blessed with at this time of day. 

  
And three, discord - the chat where he could - he would - immediately contact every person necessary. Because it was time to re-enter civilization, just not in the way everyone thought.

  
Sapnap sat in a chair at the edge of his desk, watching his every move with intent focus. When Dream had explained what he would do, Sapnap, surprisingly, agreed. As long as he made an official statement afterward. 

  
George on the other hand, was not as pleased. He was somewhere in the kitchen likely microwaving whatever food Dream possibly had in the kitchen. George didn't want to watch, not for the mere reason he would be feeding into the rumors and stories that had been forming around Dream's name, but for another reason. One George wouldn't disclose.

  
But Dream had a feeling he knew, anyway.

  
"You ready?" Sapnap deadpanned, breaking the silence and stuffy air of the room. 

  
"Ready as I'll ever be," he said, typing into his keyboard a statement to discord.

  
_hey guys. i'll explain later, but for now i need your reactions to be pure. see you in a sec_

  
He released a sigh, clicking into the server that started it all. Then as his screen displayed the earthy, block surroundings his eyes widened, because he was met with something he didn't expect.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 800+ hits, swag
> 
> hearts


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And before he knew it, he was head-on with history and a seemingly unpredictable future."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: depictions of battle/wordplay (video games (Minecraft)) 
> 
> ~*for reference: this chapter takes the place of the DSMP war where l'manberg sought independence but it will have several of the same aspects/events (some things are different bc of character changes and out-of-order timelines) so if for some reason you haven't seen up to that, then beware of some casual spoilers*

  
His avatar's vision circled the area, viewing the scene around him; fire and explosions and rampage - it looked like war, and he had no idea why.

  
His axe sits shiny in his hand, but he flicks it away - the hard to forget memorabilia of it becoming almost too hard to bear. He sat on the roof of the community house; someone obviously had mined the dramatic pillar he had built not that long ago. 

  
His surroundings slowly started registering in his head - not the explosion he saw from the distance, not the trees on fire, not the familiar avatars running at various points of the world, but how the ground beneath him was in flames. 

  
He jumped into the pond, swimming until he was at shore. He saw the chat blowing up with random war cries and dialogue; no one had even hesitated when he joined, but they likely hadn't even realized it yet amongst the panic. He needed to find out what was going on, though, and opened the chat box - scanning the various messages directed to users of all sorts before typing his own.

  
~

  
_Dream joined the game_

  
_ItsFundy: back off_

  
_TommyInnit: DONT MAKE US DO THIS_

  
_ItsAlyssa: bad and punz meet at nether portal_

  
_The_Eret joined the game_

  
_WilburSoot: eret come to lmanberg_

  
_Technoblade left the game_

  
_Technoblade joined the game_

  
_Callahan: what are u doing_

  
_Callahan: LEAVE ME ALONE_

  
_Technoblade: do this and your country is done_

  
_Dream: who isn't streaming and can meet me at the community house_

  
~

  
His message seemed so out of sort, out of context, as it lied between spammed lines of dialogue. 

  
He waited what seemed to be minutes for a response, watching the fire slowly demolish the forest and the beloved community house go in flames. He spent the time stopping the fire, savoring the remains of the oldest landmark on the server. When he finally got a response, the building was in shambles - hardly walls and a floor, now.

  
But that wasn't what made his heart skip a beat.

  
~

  
_Technoblade whispers to you: i'm not_

  
_Technoblade whispers to you: turn around_

  
~

  
He obeyed rather quickly, and whether it was out of shock or sense of guilty shame he moved immediately to where Technoblade sat perched up on a hill in the distance; Techno didn't move an inch.

  
Sapnap sat stilled near Dream, breath hitching every-so often and his eyes seemingly frozen open; he didn't want to miss anything, and Dream understood.  
When Techno and Dream were face-to-face, it was like the world stopped rotating, and the battles throughout the plantation were white noise or background music. If explosions and killing could be called such a thing.

  
But Techno and Dream were their own type of battle - not enemies fighting for rights or things, not two people put on opposite sides of an inevitable war, but instead they were the personification of a breach of trust - a falling out of emotions.

  
Dream blinked as he suddenly found his mouse hovering to join Techno's VC, and when he clicked he held his breath. And he selfishly wanted Techno to speak first.

  
But he didn't; the call was silent.

  
"Put it on speaker," Sapnap said monotonously quiet. Dream obeyed, sighing as he attempted to find the right words to say.

  
"Techno," he said plainly. 

  
The purple-ish enchantments of Techno's obviously new netherite armor was a welcome distraction as Dream stared at him. He assumed that all of the items in his inventory were simply replaced, and a part of him wanted to believe that that would be enough for Techno not to hate him.

  
He supposed to hate someone merely from killing them through a video game would be dramatic, despite. But Techno was known for his own online persona of revenge and anarchy; he wondered if that would come into play now.

  
"Dream." Somehow Techno was far more dry with his response. If Dream cared to guess, it was to hide the true emotion he wanted to show in his voice. So Dream appreciated just his name for once.

  
"So what's going on? What'd I miss?" Dream rotated his vision, punching the air for clear interpretation of his statement toward the war on the server. 

  
Techno looked out, no longer staring at Dream. 

  
"Exactly what it looks like."

  
Sapnap and Dream looked to each other contemplatively, both at a loss for words.

  
"But _why_ does it look like that?"

  
Silence through the mic, and Dream wondered if he chose the wrong words. He sighed with relief as he heard the slight, familiar rasp in response.

  
"You, I guess." Dream didn't respond, hoping it would urge Techno to elaborate. He took his hands off his keyboard, tracing two fingers delicately along the edge of his desk. It was funny, feeling so uneasy when he had just been so bold. 

  
Techno continued, "When you went MIA, we couldn't also. We knew we had to do lore eventually so we quickly composed this to take place today." He could hear Techno's breath hitch through the line, and Dream held his. "For the record, I'm not mad, but I'm also not stupid enough to think that you weren't. I don't know why or what happened, and you don't have to tell me, but are you at least better now?"

  
Dream stilled briefly before clicking the button to take himself off speaker. He heard Sapnap grunt in response until he seemed to understand.

  
"Yeah, I am. And for the record, it wasn't about you. I just-"

  
Techno swiftly cut him off, saying, "No, don't tell me. I can find out with everyone else."

  
Dream couldn't help but raise a corner of his mouth - a weak, pathetic smile that was more out of relief than anything. He had forgotten how genuine Techno could be.

  
"If that's what you want." 

  
He looked to his hot-bar, the row almost filled with expensive, glimmering items that had more value than most anything on the server. He then switched to his crossbow, the one that had helped kill so many just days ago, and tossed it to Techno's avatar. It was picked up right away, but it must have taken Techno off-guard when it took seconds before he looked at it truly in his hand.

  
"What are you doing?" he heard Sapnap say gruffly. He merely shook him off in dismissal, watching intently at his screen.

  
Techno turned his avatar's face up, and they suddenly found themselves head-to-head once again. But in a much different way this time.

  
"Why?" Techno said confusedly intrigued.

  
"It's yours. I took all of your items, so take the most valued thing of mine. Do with it what you want, kill me, keep it as your own. I won't fight back."

  
The weighted silence returned, but Dream knew it was mostly out of contemplation.

  
Suddenly Techno changed to a lava bucket, placing it on the grassy floor and tossing the enchanted crossbow into flames. And as Dream stood frozen in shock and awe, he knew Techno was joyfully savoring it. And Dream knew it was justified.

  
Sapnap coughed, shifting his body to the doorway of the room. Dream didn't care to turn around, but he had a feeling he knew why Sapnap had. 

  
Muting his mic though still not turning around, he said to George, "There's a chair by the closet. You're welcome to join."

  
And though George didn't respond and was near silent, he heard the presence of a body moving across the room and before he knew it, another chair was placed next to him and his friend was quietly sitting.

  
Grinning for the first time in minutes, he unmuted at the same time Techno started speaking. 

  
"I enjoyed that."

  
Playfully rolling his eyes, he responded, "I know."

  
Suddenly the aura changed, and Dream knew why. Especially as he and Techno both instinctively flashed their swords, holding the shiny weapons in a boastful display. Then as they both looked to each other, Dream smiled wider as they simultaneously jumped from the hill, casually landing with water buckets then switching back to their swords.

  
~~

  
~

  
_Callahan: helppppppp_   
_WilburSoot: give us what we want_   
_Punz: don't do this_   
_ItsAlyssa: GIVE HIM BACK_   
_ItsFundy: we will, just give us what we want_

  
~

  
~~

  
They jumped down the oak path, passing what used to be trees or buildings. 

  
Occasionally a chicken would make sounds through his mic, or a zombie would groan from an underground cave. They efficiently ignored the sounds, chatting casually through their call.

  
"So L'manberg wants independence, and are basically turning the rest of the server to shambles until they get their wish?" 

  
Dream dodged a skeleton shot, the night sky allowing the bony mob to wander freely. 

  
"Yep." 

  
Dream contemplated, completing the holes in the plan.

  
"I still don't understand how L'manberg has all this power over the server right now? Don't they have less people standing their ground?"

  
Suddenly they both stopped immediately, looking ahead at the first avatar they had seen since running from the community house.

  
"Behind the hill," Techno said somewhat quietly, as though anyone else would be able to hear him. Techno then answered Dream's question with, "Because Tommy has the disks."

  
Instinctively, Dream squinted at the faint nametag titled _TommyInnit_ , practically smiling giddily in result. 

  
"And you said they have Callahan captive?" he said with an enthusiastically devising tone.

  
"Yep," Techno returned just the same.

  
They looked to each other, and Dream allowed his avatar to nod before they both revealed their hiding spot to an exposed Tommy rummaging through chests.

  
He saw Techno strike away a zombie, knocking it back several blocks out of their path. 

  
Dream didn't know why Tommy was so exposed; he had diamond armor, but in comparison to two avatars with netherite armor? Nothing.

  
They stood in the doorway of Tommy's dirt house, ironic in its entirety; this was where it all started. 

  
Dream's cocky demeanor he had held not that long ago returned, except this time instead of anger it was filled with the bold enthusiasm he often was composed of on normal days. He felt normal, and he was proud of himself for it.

  
After what seemed like minutes Tommy finally turned around, and Dream found joy in the shocked expression Tommy was no doubt holding. He suddenly found a frantic type in the chat, and he laughed to himself.

  
~

  
_TommyInnit: DREAM??_

  
~

  
Within moments, his undetected presence he had taken advantage of since he had joined became overwhelming as the others on the server now became aware.

  
~

  
_Ponk: dream?_

  
_The_Eret: wait, dream's on???_

  
_BadBoyHalo: hi dream!_

  
_ItsFundy: um, hello..._

  
_Callahan: HELP ME DREAM THEY HAVE ME_

  
~

  
Sighing, Dream looked to Sapnap. He was munching on some popcorn that he hadn't realized existed yet, staring at Tommy's avatar with unyielding focus. Then he perked up an eye, shifting his shoulders in asking of why he had stopped being active. 

  
Ignoring Sapnap, he then looked to George who was settled back against his chair. George wasn't looking at the screen, and instead at Dream.

  
Muting, he said, "What?"

  
George snorted, though had an unreadable look on his face. Then he merely said, "I'm just ... wondering what you'll do next."

  
Dream smirked devilishly, pinching George's cheek before returning to his keyboard. 

  
"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

  
Unmuting and hovering over the letters of his keyboard, Dream typed:

  
_You whisper to TommyInnit: come with us or you die_

  
"I told him to come with us or die, just waiting for a response." Techno snorted through the line, and Dream saw his own crossbow quipped with deadly aim at the plainly-armored avatar ahead. "Do you have a spare by the way, since you burned mine?"

  
Techno laughed again slightly more boisterously. Quickly he saw a plain bow enter Techno's hand and it being released into his hot-bar. 

  
"Seriously? A _bow_? It's not even enchanted."

  
Techno's crossbow was re-quipped, aimed at Tommy though he looked at Dream. "You burned my axe. Suffer."

  
The words seemed cruel, but there was an underlying sarcastic bite with the tone. 

  
_Light-hearted._

  
He finally received a response from his soon-to-be prisoner.

  
~

  
_TommyInnit whispers to you: what do you want_

  
~  
"He said _what do you want_. As if he doesn't know." 

  
"Tell him the death of his nation."

  
"I'm not going to say that, but maybe we can simply ... destroy them for all their worth?"

  
"Hmm, I like it."

  
Dream typed back:

  
~

  
_You whisper to TommyInnit: give us the disks, and stop destroying everything_

  
_You whisper to TommyInnit: child_

  
~

  
He giggled to himself, not bothering to relay his response to Techno. Instead, George said, "I'm going to pull up Tommy's stream. I have to know how he's reacting."

  
Sure enough George did, and though it was just on his small phone screen Dream could see Tommy giving a pouting, somewhat angry, face before screaming practically all gibberish. 

  
The three simultaneously laughed, and Tommy must have been louder than he thought as he heard Techno laughing through the line. Finally Tommy took a sip of water, took a deep breath, then hastily typed his response in the chat.

  
~

  
_TommyInnit whispers to you: fuck you_

  
_TommyInnit whispers to you: you deserve nothing_

  
~

  
Sighing, he said to Techno in a sing-song voice, "He's not cooperating."

  
"Then let's make him."

  
Dream watched as Techno yielded his crossbow, pulling out TNT from his inventory and placing in the ground in front of them. If he blew it up, they could take the hit - Tommy couldn't. But Tommy didn't seem to flinch, even through his stream. His breath hitched a bit, but his avatar was still as Dream's bow pointed toward him in a deadly manner.

  
He then saw Techno's public text in the chat.

  
_Technoblade: click the bed._

  
That was why Tommy didn't care, because if he died he would respawn in L'manberg - away from them and in the safety of their evolving country.  
Tommy didn't obey, so Dream shot him, watching as he lit up with a red spurt. 

  
_Dream: click the bed, tommy_

  
He looked over to his side where George displayed Tommy's stream. He was looking directly at his camera, breathing calmly for once and pursing his lips slightly.   
Then with hatred-filled focus, Tommy said, "Fuck you Dream," and he then obeyed, clicking the white bed to their side.

  
A part of him wondered if Tommy actually did hate him, or if his acting was just exceptionally convincing at the moment. Either way, Dream did his own acting, verbally repeating his actions of his breakdown though he didn't mean it.

  
_They_ didn't mean it.

  
_Technoblade: now give us the discs AND Callahan and we won't blow up your nation_

  
Tommy was quiet, Dream was quiet, Techno was quiet, the room was quiet. And to top it off they all seemed to be holding their breaths - all waiting on Tommy's next move. But Techno lost patience.

  
_Technoblade: fine_

  
Suddenly Techno had pulled out his sword, slicing through Tommy's avatar like it was nothing. Tommy managed a couple hits before he inevitably was killed, his items scattering through the small house.

  
_TommyInnit was slain by Technoblade_

  
"Damn. I'm getting serious deja vu," Dream deadpanned.

  
"He's being annoying," Techno casually replied.

  
~

  
_ItsFundy: WOAH WHAT_

  
_WilburSoot: tommy what's going on??_

  
_BadBoyHalo: what just happened_

  
_You whispered to TommyInnit: don't say a word_

  
_Technoblade: that's one life tommy. let's not make it two_

  
~

  
And if he hadn't already felt overpowering, an unexpected whisper came through.

  
~

  
_The_Eret whispers to you: i'm on your side. tell me what to do_

  
~

  
"I have an idea," Dream said.

  
Obviously intrigued, Techno replied, "Do share."

  
Cracking his neck, he simply typed:

  
_Dream: Wilbur, care for a chat?_

  
~~

  
Tommy sat hovering in the corner, Techno guarding him with competitive passion. Dream sat close, awaiting Wilbur to join their VC.

  
They were going to strike a deal - prisoner for prisoner, except with some quirks.

  
Wilbur, of course, wanted a moment to discuss with his "partners," and Dream complied. So now, they sat silent, Dream amused with their power as a duo compared to the many with L'manberg. It was a justified caution, he supposed.

  
"You know, you're awfully perky with being the cause of this in the first place." Dream jumped at George's sudden statement, and he almost went as far as sweating at the honesty of it except he saw George's playful smirk from the corner of his eye.

  
"And you seem to be enjoying this more than you thought, huh?"

  
George squinted contemplatively, licking his lips as Dream turned to face him. Dream cocked his head as a response, waiting for the inevitable comeback. He was disappointed when George merely shrugged, jolting his head to the screen at Wilbur's awaited response.

  
_WilburSoot: joining now._

  
Sure enough, he heard the noise that signified Wilbur had joined he and Techno's VC. Wilbur didn't give anyone else a chance to respond when he bluntly said, "Give us Tommy and we'll give you Callahan."

  
Dream tried not to audibly sigh at the plainness of the request, but Techno did it for him as he heard a groan through the call.

  
"Aw, come on Wilbur. We need some flavor, not just Callahan."

  
"We have nothing else to give you," Wilbur said unamused.

  
"Actually, you do. You have the _disks_. And as long as you have those, you have _some_ power over your pathetic land. We can't have that," Dream butted in.

  
"What, so we give you both of our sources of leverage, and all we get is being back to where we started?"

  
"Ah, there's the flavor," Techno said giddily. Sapnap chuckled under his breath and Dream elbowed him as a response.

  
"Ah, but there's a catch. You see, we've prepared, and while you stand all high and mighty with your captive and us with ours, you were too busy being MIA to know that we've planted TNT all throughout the server." 

  
Dream flinched, he actually flinched and he felt a bubbling rage sprout through him. He honestly couldn't tell if it was another episode or just the result of his competitive nature, but his fingers tensed on his keyboard and his teeth gritted. He also wasn't sure if he was allowed to feel this way, it was just a game, though that seemed to be more helpful a week ago than it is now.

  
Wilbur continued, "And the only reason I'm telling you this is because I want to see you _squirm_. You may think you care the most about the disks, Dream, but just admit it - you crave power, and this server being in one piece is the only way to achieve that. And it also feels good to know that I could kill you and your goons in an instant, and there's nothing you can do about it."

  
Suddenly he felt a soothing presence tracing his arm, and as he looked George was tracing his fingers in a spiral motion. And it was soothing, because just as before when he had finally broke and decided to kill the entire server was happening once again, except this time it would justified and there would be order.  
Nodding an unsaid _I'm okay_ to George, he removed his fingers and allowed Dream to work.

  
Clearing his throat, he said, "Techno?"

  
And Dream could practically hear his smile as Techno responded, "Time for war?"

  
"Time for war."

  
~~

  
Though it seemed like they had been playing for hours, it had only taken several minutes to spread word through the server that they would meet at the front doors of L'manberg.

  
And if it had been done efficiently, it would be Dream, Techno, Bad, Alyssa, Ponk, and Punz ready for a fight to the death. Soon.

  
Tommy walked slowly ahead of them; Dream didn't bother for his bow, instead wielding his sword as Techno held his crossbow. It was more out of enjoyment than necessity, as Tommy bore no armor since they had killed him the first time.

  
Soon they saw the walls of L'manberg, and were trekking over grassy hills and exploded craters in various spots. In all honesty, the server was on the brink of destruction, but that didn't matter at the moment. Winning the war though, a priority.

  
Then a herd of avatars were visible in lines, one for them and one for L'manberg's - armies, if he dared call them that.

  
And when Techno and Dream emerged with Tommy from the shadows, the four on their side seemed to spread, forming a makeshift pathway of sorts to the front lines.   
And before he knew it, he was head-on with history and a seemingly unpredictable future.

  
Without a word, Techno and Dream left their VC for the new one, met with surprising silence even with the entire server in one call. Dream spoke first.

  
"Ready for the trade?"

  
He heard a huff through the line, though he couldn't make the distinction to who it belonged to; likely Wilbur.

  
"Give us Tommy, first." Wilbur was casual, a necessity when negotiating or in this case, trading.

  
Dream looked to Callahan guarded in the near distance; Eret stood with a shimmering sword to his back, stoic even through the screen. Eret looked back before changing his focus to Wilbur.

  
"Do you have the disks?"

  
Dream knew his question wouldn't spark hope, but that's what improvising is for.

  
"You know we don't. And even if we did, you hold the only man who can retrieve them." Sarcasm and annoyance was obvious, and the accented voice of Wilbur continued. "We trade prisoners, and then you grant us independence, and then we call the war done for. Unless you want a blown up nation."

  
Dream chuckled. "Nation, server. Whatever." He took a few steps closer to Wilbur's surprisingly well-equipped avatar, even the lack of enchantments on his netherite armor making him respectable. "But you see, Wilbur, though I haven't had as much time to scheme or plan as you have, I have had a moment to think. And even though I was gone a week or so, I just can't believe that you would waste your time with TNT. In fact, I think you're above it. But in simple terms, I'm calling your bluff."

  
Wilbur was silent, the line was silent - and Dream smirked at his bold assumption, wondering if he was right or not. But he knew he was, because he had a spy.  
He continued, "And me and Techno have contemplated it. Maybe we don't want your disks, but we know what you want more than anything and that's your freedom from the server. And so, we've come to a realization - we don't want that."

  
Suddenly explosions went off and blocks vanished; ender pearls were flung everywhere, but only from people who were aware of the situation - including Eret and Callahan.

  
Dream teleported to the distance and was met with Techno at his side. Alyssa and Ponk had moved to a farther hill while Bad and Punz had made it to the tops of tall trees. 

  
And they all watched as L'manberg was destroyed, slowly and efficiently.

  
~

  
_WilburSoot was blown up by tnt_

  
_TommyInnit was blown up by tnt_

  
_ItsFundy was blown up by tnt_

  
_Tubbo_ was blown up by tnt_

  
~

  
~~

  
Twitch seemed dry with the now lack of high-viewer streams. 

  
Everyone on the server that was streaming had simultaneously ended once L'manberg had blown up, except for one.

  
"And you swear we'll be free? No hidden agendas, no more death and destruction. L'manberg is a free nation." 

  
Tommy was almost serious through the line, so Dream returned it. It was just them and the hundreds of thousands of viewers, so they knew they had one chance for it to go smoothly.

  
"I swear."

  
Tommy sighed, and before he knew it Dream saw one disk being flung from his hand and then two. He picked them up in a swift motion, giddily looking at them in his inventory. 

  
"Congratulations, Tommy. You have your independence."

  
Tommy muttered a not-so subtle _fuck you_ before leaving the call and ending his stream. 

  
Now, Dream looked at the private discord call honing everyone of importance. He had asked them immediately after their streams ended to be there, waiting. His heart seemed to skip a beat as he joined the call, noting how Tommy had immediately obeyed and was silently waiting.

  
Then he relaxed, relishing in the comfort of his friends as he said, "So this is what happened."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took me hours to write and for why
> 
> also idk if the death notes for tnt are correct, google didn't help and i'm currently too lazy to fix it lmao
> 
> hearts


End file.
